


wolfies

by thepsychicclam



Series: domestic series [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dad Stiles, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Marriage, Stay at home dad!Derek, dad derek, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 04:31:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2335400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles try to deal with their rambunctious 3 year old werecub and 16 month old who may not be a werewolf. As if parenting wasn't hard enough, Derek won't stop angsting because Evie isn't showing any signs of shifting. If Stiles makes it to the end of the year without a breakdown, it'll be a miracle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wolfies

**Author's Note:**

> this is 40k of slice of life, domestic fluff. there is no plot. well, a small plot, but this is not a fic with an actual point, except stiles and derek dealing with being parents to two extremely rambunctious children. it's totally cavity inducing, just like the other two in this series lol. this is my guilty pleasure, and i totally indulged in some overdramatics. 
> 
> so, you are warned :D
> 
> as a note: you don't have to read the other two to understand this one. :D so enjoy!

Derek crouches in front of Evie, who is sitting on a blanket in the backyard. She’s staring up at the sky, her small hands closing into fists as she tries to catch the bugs flying around her head. 

“Come on, pumpkin,” Derek says. He stares at her intently. “Evie, look at me!” 

Evie finally catches something, and squeals loudly. Derek leans back, Evie’s laugh piercing as she wails in delight. She turns to Derek and holds out her fist, opening her hand slowly. 

“Aww,” Stiles says, coming up behind Derek. “Mosquito guts. We can put it in the baby book. Baby’s first gift to her daddy.” Stiles laughs as he reaches into the bag and pulls out the package of travel wipes. He tosses them at Derek, smacking him in the side of the head. “Bullseye.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Don’t curse in front of your daughter!” Stiles says with an exaggerated shake of his head. “You’re a terrible influence.”

“Says Mr. Let-Me-Say-Every-Curse-Word-In-Front-Of-My-Toddler. Her first word will probably be fuck.”

Derek pulls out a wipe before cleaning the dead bug off Evie’s hand. She tries to pull her hand away as she notices another bug flying around her head. Derek tosses the wipe onto the ground without a thought before grabbing Evie and pulling her into his lap.

“Come on,” Derek pleads. “Wolf out.” Derek lets his eyes bleed red, and Evie squeals happily, but remains unchanged. Dark curls, Stiles’ eyes, all human. Derek shifts, even pulls back his lip to show his extended canines. Evie moves onto her knees, now face to face with Derek. She just stares at him. “Come on, pumpkin. Wolf out for daddy.”

Evie’s little eyebrows draw together, her mouth in a hard line. Derek thinks maybe this is it as he watches her concentrate. He waits, and then…Evie giggles as she tugs the fur on his cheeks. “Da-da-da-da,” she repeats, petting his maw before rubbing her face against his neck.

“Evie!” Derek exclaims, wrinkling his nose. “You’re a little stinker, do you know that?”

Stiles bursts out laughing from where he is working in the nearby herb garden. “Don’t think wolfing out was the surprise she had in mind for you,” he says. “You’re changing that diaper, dear.”

Derek growls, which just makes Evie even happier if her nose against Derek’s hairy cheek is any indication. Then, she licks his cheek and drops an open mouthed kiss on it. He smiles as his face shifts back to normal, and Evie’s eyes go really large before she slaps his normal cheeks happily.

“All right, you,” Derek says, grabbing her by the waist and laying her back on the blanket. Evie wiggles around as Derek starts changing her diaper. “What if she’s not a werewolf?” Derek asks, fingers working with practiced ease. In no time, he has Evie changed and clean. He blows a raspberry on her plump belly before leaving her on the blanket while he disposes of the diaper and washes his hands inside the house.

When he comes back outside, Stiles is sitting back on his haunches, covered in dirt up to his elbows. There’s a streak of mud across his cheek that Derek finds ridiculously sexy. It makes him want to throw Stiles down in the dirt and have his way with him. Apparently, Stiles knows exactly what he’s thinking, because his mouth curves into a grin.

“I don’t think you’re thinking about your daughter right now,” Stiles says. He takes the opportunity to pull his sweaty shirt over his head and toss it on the ground beside him. The movement causes Stiles’ scent to hit Derek strongly, all sweat and skin and _Stiles_. Stiles’ chest is pale, sweat pooling in the hollow between his ribs and under his arms despite the mild fall weather, and Derek wants to lick it from his skin, drag his tongue against the light dusting of hair on his chest, the line of dark hair that leads below the waist of his work khakis. Stiles runs a hand from the back of his damp neck down his chest, his thumb brushing over one of his nipples, leaving a trail of mud in its wake.

“You’re a menace,” Derek groans, glancing over at Evie, who is crawling in the yard, before dropping in front of Stiles and pulling him into a kiss. Stiles’ skin is slick and wet under his hands, his chest sticking to the front of Derek’s t-shirt. “I’d like nothing more than to fuck you right here and see just how dirty I could get you, but,” Derek pulls away and glances over Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles follows his gaze. “Your daughter is about to crawl away.”

Evie is babbling nonsense as she crawls towards the woods, and Derek kisses Stiles again quickly before jumping up and running after her. He scoops her up easily and sets her back down on the ground, facing the other way. She immediately starts crawling back towards the blanket. Derek stands there, watching her.

“It’s not the end of the world, you know,” Stiles says quietly. Derek flicks his eyes up at Stiles, who’s watching Evie as she lay flat on her belly like a starfish, staring at a dandelion. “If she’s not a werewolf.”

Derek rubs a hand across his beard. “But she’s my daughter,” Derek says.

Stiles flicks his eyes up at Derek and glares. “She’s my daughter, too, you know,” he snaps. “Last time I checked, I don’t have the urge to kill and maim on the full moon.”

“So, we’re going there?” 

Stiles scoffs. “Ugh, yeah. We’re going there when you make the idea of your daughter being a human sound like a fucking tragedy.”

“Stiles,” Derek sighs, “that’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“You’ve been moping for weeks because she hasn’t wolfed out yet. You keep acting like something’s _wrong_ with her because she hasn’t wolfed out yet. How do you think that makes me feel? What if I don’t want her to be a werewolf? What if I want one of my children to be human like me?”

Derek studies Stiles for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully. Years together has made it easier to navigate around each other in arguments, but Derek knows they both have a tendency to say the wrong thing in the heat of the moment. “If she’s human, then she will be absolutely perfect, just like she is now.” They both glance over at Evie, who is shoving a handful of dirt in her mouth.

“Just not as perfect as Patrick, because he’s a werewolf.”

Derek narrows his eyes and glares at Stiles. “That’s not fair. I never said Patrick was any better because he was a werewolf.”

“You damn well implied it!” Stiles exclaims. They stare at each other angrily for a moment before Stiles gets up, wiping his hands on his shorts. He starts towards the house.

“Where are you going?” Derek calls after him.

“To take a shower,” Stiles replies, slamming the back door behind him. Derek sighs and drops onto the blanket. Evie crawls over to him, and shows him the dandelion she picked.

“Thank you, pumpkin,” he says, kissing her nose lightly. He picks her up and carries her inside, setting her in the playpen before going upstairs to talk to Stiles.

But when he tries to open the bathroom door, he finds the door locked.

*

“Daddy!” Patrick says, a ball of energy as he runs through the living room when the sheriff brings him home. “Pop-pop played with me! We built a tellypopter.”

“A tellypopter?” Derek says in mock seriousness. 

Patrick nods emphatically. “It moved!”

Derek glances up at the sheriff, who’s just sat down in the recliner. “Was he a handful?”

“He was great. We had fun. These Erector sets aren’t that much different from when Stiles was little. He used to love those things. It was one of the only things Claudia and I could set in front of him to keep him occupied. He wouldn’t stop until he figured out just how everything went together.”

“Can I go back tomorrow so we can finish the tellypopter?” Patrick asks.

“Not tomorrow,” Derek says, ruffling his hair. “But soon, okay?”

“Okay!” 

“Go wash up. Dinner’ll be ready soon.” Patrick crawls down and runs towards the bathroom. Derek turns to the sheriff and asks, “Want to stay for dinner?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, Melissa’s cooking tonight. We’ll come over soon, though. Maybe next week?” 

“Sounds great.”

The sheriff gets up and walks towards the kitchen to talk to Stiles. Derek turns the television to ESPN to catch up on the baseball scores, taking the moment to relax. He waves to the sheriff when he leaves, but doesn’t move from the couch.

“Derek, Evie’s fussing.” Derek groans as he starts to get up, moving slower than he should. He actually hasn’t spoken to Stiles since he’d gotten out of the shower a few hours ago. He’s dreading dinner. “Derek, did you hear what I said? Patrick! Get off of that stool! Derek!”

“I’m coming!” Derek yells. “Give me time to get off the couch,” he says as he walks into the kitchen. Stiles is at the stove, moving chicken from a skillet onto a platter. Patrick is standing on top of a stool, and Evie is in a walker, skittering across the floor, whining loudly. 

“Patrick Stilinski-Hale! What did I say?” Stiles yells, glaring at Patrick over his shoulder. Patrick launches himself off the stool, and Derek moves quick enough to catch him before he lands.

“Patrick!” Derek growls. “You do _not_ leap from furniture! You could hurt yourself!”

“But I want to fly, Daddy!” Patrick says. “Like Superman and Batman.”

Derek flicks his eyes over at Stiles, but Stiles is busy side-stepping Evie and trying to spoon vegetables onto three plates. Derek turns back to Patrick. “Time out!” 

“But Daddy!” 

“Don’t Daddy me, young man,” Derek says. “You directly disobeyed your father. Time out!” Patrick trudges into the living room and sits in the chair in the far corner of the room. 

Derek dodges Stiles before he grabs Evie from the walker. She’s red-faced and fussy, and he nuzzles the side of her head as he moves around the kitchen to grab her plate and spoon from the cabinets. 

From behind him, he hears a loud thump. “Fuck!” Stiles mutters, and Derek turns around as Stiles kicks the walker away from him. “You couldn’t have moved the damn walker out of the middle of the floor while I tried to put dinner on the table?”

“I was trying to get Evie to stop being fussy and help you get her ready for dinner,” Derek replies, trying to control his anger. “I thought it’d be big enough not to be a problem.”

Stiles glares at him, and Derek glares back. Evie picks that moment to start wailing, and even Patrick starts crying, probably picking up on his parents’ moods.

“Great,” Stiles says. “Just perfect.” 

Derek sighs as he walks towards the living room while Stiles finishes setting the table. Patrick’s in the chair, sniffling. Evie is still screaming in his ear. “What’s wrong?”

“You and DD are mad at each other!” he says, starting to cry again. “Please don’t be mad! I so sorry. I will mind always!”

Derek shakes his head as he holds his hand out for Patrick. “We’re not mad at you.”

“Why are you mad?” 

“DD hit his foot on Evie’s walker. It hurt.”

“DD!” Patrick yells, running towards Stiles and flinging his arms around Stiles’ legs. “You got a boo-boo!”

Stiles laughs. “I’m fine.”

“I kiss the boo-boo!” Patrick tries to lean down, but Stiles grabs him around the waist and lifts him into his seat. He drops a kiss on top of his head. 

“I kiss the boo-boo!” Stiles says, kissing Patrick’s cheek and causing Patrick to giggle loudly.

“DD, I don’t have a boo-boo!”

Derek gets Evie strapped into the high chair, and she finally settles down enough to shove some of her dinner into her mouth, though part of the broccoli and most of the mashed potatoes end up on the floor. Patrick talks about what he did at the sheriff’s, and Derek and Stiles barely speak to one another.

*

After dinner, Stiles goes into the garage to work on plant samples while Patrick helps Derek put the dishes in the dishwasher, which means mostly Patrick stands there talking and occasionally holding a fork. Stiles stays outside until almost midnight, only coming in when he helped tuck the kids into bed. When he finally comes into the bedroom, Derek’s waiting up for him, reading.

“You waited up for me,” Stiles says, pulling his t-shirt over his head and tugging off his sweat pants. 

“I’m not going to bed mad at you,” Derek replies. 

“Then don’t be mad at me.”

“Real mature, Stiles.” Stiles glares at Derek as he climbs into bed. Derek sighs and says, “Why are you suddenly so upset about the whole werewolf thing?” 

“I’m not upset about her being a werewolf,” Stiles says. “I don’t care if she is or isn’t. It just seems like you’ll be disappointed if she’s not a werewolf. Like, she won’t be as good anymore.”

“First off, how could you _ever_ think I would think that about my daughter? Stiles, I love that kid more than life itself. Both of them. But,” Derek says slowly, “if she’s not a werewolf, I will probably be disappointed at first.” Stiles glares at him. “Do you want me to lie? Cora and I are the only ones left in my family. Of course, as the Alpha, I want my kids to be werewolves. I want them to carry on the Hale genes. But I had a brother who wasn’t a werewolf, and my parents never treated him any different. And I won’t either.” Derek reaches out, grabs Stiles’ hand, and tugs him closer. Stiles presses himself against Derek as Derek wraps his arms around Stiles’ upper body. “I love you, and I love that you’re human. And I will love my daughter no matter if she’s a wolf, a human, or a mermaid.”

“A mermaid?” Stiles asks, trying and failing to suppress a smile.

“I watched _The Little Mermaid_ with Evie last night.” 

Stiles buries his face into Derek’s neck. “I think I’m just feeling a little left out. I don’t care what she is. It might be nice for Patrick if his sister’s a wolf, and I know it’ll mean the world to you.” Stiles kisses the side of Derek’s neck, and Derek tightens his arms around him. 

“I still want her to wolf out,” Derek whispers.

“I know.”

“Does that make me a bad father?”

“No,” Stiles says, his smile pressed against Derek’s skin. “I kinda want one of them to really be into plants. And lacrosse. And comics. And – “

“I got it,” Derek says with a chuckle. He runs his nose against Stiles’ temple, holding him close. “Are we good?”

“Yeah. I can’t stay mad at you for too long.”

“Which is probably the only reason we’ve been married as long as we have been,” Derek jokes.

“Probably.”

* 

Stiles rubs his eyes, trying to wake up. He’d had trouble sleeping because fights with Derek always left him feeling out of it, and then Evie had started crying around four a.m., and he’d gotten up with her since he wasn’t really sleeping anyway.

“You okay?” Linda, a botanist from Oregon, asks as they hike through the canyon. Stiles stifles a yawn. “You look like hell.”

“Exhausted,” Stiles admits. “Long night.”

“How are the kids?”

“Fine.” Stiles hesitates, but then continues. “Derek’s worried about Evie.”

“Why?” Linda asks. She’s older than Stiles by almost twenty years, and a werewolf from a Pack near Portland. She’s Stiles’ favorite person to work with for many reasons.

“She hasn’t shown any signs of being a werewolf yet,” Stiles says. “He’s afraid she’s human.”

“Ah,” Linda replies. “How do you feel about this?”

Stiles shrugs. “I don’t care. I’ve got one werewolf child, what’s two? My best friend is also an Alpha, and his oldest is human.”

“Would you prefer her to be human like you?”

Stiles thinks about it as they walk down a rather steep path. When they get to the bottom, he says, “No, not really. I laid out all the pros and cons last night,” Stiles explains, holding out his hand and helping Linda across a small stream. They pull off their packs and remove their sample kits. “I couldn’t sleep. Derek and I had a fight about it, and I honestly don’t care one way or another. But Derek wants her to be a werewolf so badly. It worries me.”

“In case she’s not?” Linda asks. Stiles nods as he starts clipping some of the plants growing around the creek. “He’ll love her no matter what. It’s instinct, I think. The Pack survives and thrives if they produce cubs. While even two werewolves can have human children – although it’s rare – it’s more common for werewolf-human matches. You said he lost his family?”

“Yeah, when he was young. Has one sister left from a large Pack. He also lost some other Pack members right after we met.” Stiles frowns as he concentrates on securing and labeling the small vials. He is surprised by how familiar the ache of those losses still are so many years later. 

Linda reaches out and squeezes Stiles’ arm. “Go easy on him. Your pain is a fraction of what he’s felt in the past, which I’m sure you’re aware of. His need for her to be a werewolf is both instinctual and emotional. If she’s human, he will deal with it and love her just the same. He mated with a human, didn’t he?” She smiles, and Stiles feels a little bit of the knot in his chest loosen.

*

Stiles finds the house empty when he gets home. Derek’s car is in the driveway, but he nor the kids are anywhere inside. He walks into the backyard and starts down the small pathway that leads into the woods. He hears voices the deeper he goes into the woods. When he gets to the small bonfire area they use on the full moons, he finds Evie in a stroller, and Derek and Patrick in the underbrush nearby.

“DD!” Patrick yells as he runs over to Stiles. Stiles bends down and lifts him. Patrick nuzzles his cheek and runs his hands over Stiles’ neck. “You smell like plants.”

“Why do I smell like plants?” Stiles asks.

“Because you are the plant man.”

“Yes, I’m the plant man.” Stiles smiles as Patrick snuggles against him. Derek walks over and kisses him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Derek pauses and sniffs. “You work with Linda today?”

“Yep.”

“Da-da-da-da,” Evie says very insistently. Stiles looks down at where she is straining against her stroller, trying to get out as she reaches for Stiles. Stiles kisses Patrick’s head and sets him on the ground before picking her up out of the stroller. “Da-da-da-da,” she says contently, her fists grabbing on to his khaki shirt and pulling.

“Hey sweet girl,” Stiles says, kissing her cheek. He turns to Derek. “What are you doing out here?”

“Patrick, want to show your dad what you learned today?”

“Yeah!” Patrick crouches down on the ground, remaining motionless as he watches the woods. Evie pulls part of Stiles’ collar into her mouth and starts chewing, and Derek tugs it from her and replaces it with her pacifier. She starts sucking on it and lays her head on Stiles’ shoulder, closing her eyes.

Patrick turns his head suddenly, and Stiles notices his eyes are gold. He sniffs, and then he darts into the underbrush, where a squirrel is apparently hidden. He runs to the tree that the squirrel scurried up, and then turns around, smiling widely. “Did you see, DD? I found the squirrel! I tracked him!”

“That’s awesome!” Stiles says as Patrick crouches back into the brush, waiting for the next squirrel. Stiles leans close to Derek, lowering his voice as he whispers, “Um, what exactly did you just teach him to do?”

Derek chuckles and wraps an arm around Stiles’ waist. “To track. I’m trying to get him to use his senses, mostly sight and hearing right now, to find things.”

“You’re not, like, going to teach him to catch squirrels with his teeth and kill them and stuff, are you?” Stiles asks, watching as Patrick pounces towards a squirrel.

“Not until he’s older,” Derek says. Stiles looks at him with wide eyes, and Derek just shrugs. “My dad did it with me.”

“Remind me to stay home from that family outing. Too much blood.” Stiles shudders at the thought.

*

Derek shuts himself in his office to work on a manuscript, so Stiles piles onto the couch with the kids for some uninterrupted Daddy-time. 

“Can we watch _Bubble Guppies_?” Patricks asks, already reaching for the remote. “Daddy always lets me watch it!”

“What’s _Bubble Guppies_?” Stiles asks.

Patrick’s eyes go extremely wide. “ _Bubble Guppies_ is my favoritest show _ever_ , DD!” He starts rambling, telling Stiles all about the TV show. Evie is grabbing at her brother’s hands as he flails them around, and she leans in a little too close and Patrick smacks her in the side of the head. Evie immediately starts crying. “I’m sorry!” Patrick yells, looking terrified.

“It’s okay,” Stiles says, holding Evie close. He bounces her and tries to quiet her. “It was an accident.”

“I sorry, Evie.” Patrick crawls over and kisses her head, and she turns to him and licks his face. He scrunches his nose and starts rubbing his cheek. “Ewwwww, baby cooties!”

“Your sister doesn’t have cooties.” Stiles points to the TV. “Are we going to watch the show?”

“Yeah!” Patrick finds the show on the DVR, honestly working the remote better than Derek. Stiles laughs. He stretches out on the couch, Patrick against the arm of the couch beside Stiles’ feet. He wiggles his toes against Patrick’s side, and Patrick starts laughing and hitting his feet. “Stop it, DD! I want to watch _Bubble Guppies!_ ”

Stiles laughs as he settles Evie on his chest. She lays on her belly, and as much as Stiles tries to get her to go to sleep, she’s too wired. For awhile, she amuses herself with playing with the strings on Stiles’ hoodie.

Stiles watches Patrick surreptitiously while he watches TV. He starts on the edge of the couch, then ends up draped over Stiles’ legs, then slides to the floor, and eventually ends up in front of the television. Stiles realizes just how fast he’s growing up. Every day he seems to get taller. And he looks so much like Derek, with the same odd shade of greenish eyes and dark hair. But Stiles didn’t know this show was his favorite, although apparently Derek watched it with him all the time. 

Evie sits on his chest, sucking on her pacifier and playing with a Glowworm Melissa bought for her. Every time she squeezes and it lights up, she waves it around excitedly. Stiles just watches her, wondering what he’s missing about her. He wonders if he works too much. Sometimes he forgets how much time he spends at work, the late evenings when he doesn’t get home until eight or nine, and the evenings he brings home work and spends more time in the garage than on the couch with his family.

“DD?” Patrick suddenly pops up, right in his face, startling Stiles. “Are you okay? You feel sad.” Patrick puts his hand on Stiles’ heart, and Evie watches her brother, then copies him. He’s not sure what it says about him that he feels emotional in that moment, with both his kids looking at him with their hands on his chest.

“I’m not sad,” Stiles says, smiling and wrapping an arm around Patrick. He hugs him close and just holds him there, listening to the soft sounds of Patrick sniffing him and rubbing his face against Stiles’ shoulder. Evie starts hitting Stiles with the head of her Glowworm, and Stiles takes it from her with his other hand and squeezes it. She laughs and claps her hands.

“I make you not sad,” Patrick says, lifting his head and pushing Stiles’ cheeks up into a smile. “I make you smile. I make you happy.”

“You always make me happy, Patrick,” Stiles says. He ruffles his dark hair, and Patrick climbs onto the couch and snuggles up against Stiles’ side.

“DD?” Patrick asks while Stiles makes the Glowworm dance for Evie. She keeps trying to touch it, but Stiles moves it out of reach just before she can touch it.

“Yeah?” He cranes his neck and looks down at Patrick, his head cradled against the crook of Stiles’ arm. Evie seizes the moment and takes the Glowworm from Stiles.

“Did you like _Bubble Guppies_?” Patrick looks up at him with such hope and open vulnerability that Stiles wants to just hold him forever.

“I didn’t like it,” Stiles says, leaning close. “I _loved_ it.”

It’s like Stiles flipped on a light switch inside Patrick. His face just shines. “Can we watch another episode?”

Stiles glances at the clock and sighs. What’s another twenty minutes in the greater scheme of things? “Yep. One more.”

Patrick lunges for the remote, knocking Stiles in the nose.

*

Stiles stirs awake when he feels fingers running through his hair. He blinks and finds Derek staring down at him, smiling. He has his cell phone out.

“What are you doing, you perv?” Stiles jokes, looking around disoriented. Evie is asleep on his chest, clutching her Glowworm and her thumb in her mouth, and Patrick is curled against his side, face buried in Stiles’ shirt.

“I was taking a picture of my three favorite people,” Derek says. He pulls the photo up, and Stiles groans. 

“I’m the ugliest sleeper ever,” he says quietly, trying not to wake the kids. In the photo, the kids are adorable, and Stiles has his head angled towards the TV, his mouth open unattractively. 

“I find I disagree,” Derek says, slipping his phone back in his pocket before scooping Patrick in his arms. Patrick mumbles and wraps his arms around Derek’s neck, sniffing his neck before growling. “I love the way you look when you sleep.”

“It’s because you have bad taste in men.” Derek thumps Stiles on the nose before carrying Patrick up to bed. Stiles very carefully moves from the couch without waking Evie. He lays her in her crib upstairs, arranging the blankets around her and placing the Glowworm in the crib beside her. He brushes her curls back from her face, then leaves the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

He finds Derek already in their bathroom. They maneuver around each other with practiced ease as they complete their nightly routines. When Stiles pulls the comforter back to crawl into bed, he looks over at the clock. It’s only 9:45.

“Why am I going to bed so early?” he asks. “I have a whole DVR of backlogged TV shows I can watch.”

“Or,” Derek says, pushing his underwear down his hips and then pulling them off. “We can do something else.”

“Something else, definitely,” Stiles nods, taking off his own underwear. “Now get your hot, naked ass in this bed.”

Derek grins as he crawls across the bed and tosses the covers back. He stretches out alongside Stiles, his fingers trailing across Stiles’ chest. “Any requests tonight?” he asks, his fingers moving lower and brushing through the hair on Stiles’ lower belly.

“Fuck me,” Stiles says. He reaches over, opens the nightstand drawer, and searches inside before finally pulling out a bottle of lube. Stiles drops it on the bed beside them as he grabs Derek’s head and pulls him in for a kiss. Derek’s mouth is warm and familiar, filled with years of shared memories but still as fresh and exciting as the first time they kissed. After all these years, Derek can make Stiles’ entire body tingle, his toes curl, with just one kiss. 

He still takes his breath away.

They kiss for awhile, uninterrupted and with intent. Stiles and Derek kiss all the time – when they wake up, as they’re making breakfast, before work, when they get home, when one of them just passes the other one. They’re always constantly touching, too; a brush of fingers against the back of the neck, a squeeze of a shoulder, a hand pressed against the flat of the back, fingers interlaced without a thought. 

But this is different. This is heated and needy, and the way Stiles is licking into Derek’s mouth can only be considered filthy. And it has Derek moaning and rutting against him soon. They’re in no rush, taking their time as they touch and kiss in this extra time with no kids, no work, only them.

Derek’s fingers work Stiles open deftly, Stiles’ head thrown back and his fingers curling around the edge of the headboard as Derek slides two fingers inside him repeatedly. 

“I love the little sounds you make,” Derek says against Stiles neck, his teeth grazing against the tight chord in his neck. “The sounds only I get to hear.” Derek pushes a third finger inside, and Stiles moans at the stretch and burn. Derek twists his fingers slowly, in the way he knows teases and drives Stiles insane, until Stiles has both hands gripping the headboard, his feet planted flat on the bed as he fucks himself against Derek’s fingers. 

“I love your fingers,” Stiles says, his eyes squeezed shut as he moves. Derek’s thumb is pressing and rubbing against the soft skin behind his balls, his fingers brushing against his prostate, Derek working him into a frenzy before they barely get started – just how Stiles likes it.

Stiles pushes himself up on his elbows as Derek licks Stiles’ hole around his fingers, then licking up to suck lightly on his balls. Stiles grabs the lube and tugs Derek up into a kiss. Derek’s hand still works inside him, and Stiles messily squeezes lube into his hand and slicks Derek’s cock as they kiss. 

As soon as Derek removes his fingers, Stiles drops back onto the bed and Derek nudges his opening with the tip of his cock. Stiles grips Derek’s shoulders and digs his heels into Derek’s ass as he pushes in, slow and full. When he’s all the way in, Derek pulls back out and starts a quick rhythm that causes Stiles to grip the headboard again.

“Yes, fuck, Derek, yes,” Stiles mutters, Derek’s cock inside him and his large, heavy body on top of him and his lips against his neck the most perfect feeling in the world. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek’s shoulders, his fingers digging into hard, shifting muscle. He turns his face and kisses Derek’s forehead.

After awhile, Derek pulls out and flips Stiles onto his stomach before sinking back into him, Stiles holding himself up on his forearms. Derek drapes himself against Stiles’ back, their skin sweat-slick against each other, and presses them both into the bed as he fucks him. 

“Feel so good,” Derek whispers against his ear before taking the shell between his teeth. Stiles tries to respond, but the only thing that comes out is a deep moan as Derek pushes deeper and deeper into him.

“I’m about to come,” Stiles says a few minutes later, and Derek hooks him around the waist and sits back on his haunches, holding Stiles in his lap as he thrusts up into him. Stiles plants his feet on the bed and takes his cock in his hand as he rolls his hips against Derek, his head thrown back against Derek’s shoulder.

“So fucking hot,” Derek growls, and Stiles looks over and sees that he’s wolfed out, his face shifted, his eyes red and canines extended. He drags his teeth against the side of Stiles’ neck, hard enough to sting but not break the skin. He’s gripping Stiles’ hips carefully so as not to puncture the skin with his claws.

“Fuck,” Stiles breathes as he comes, his fist working fast as he rides out his orgasm, coming shooting onto his lower belly and oozing over his hand. Derek grips him harder as he thrusts into him a few more times, then Stiles feels him come deep inside him with a growl.

They both slump afterwards, Derek holding Stiles close in his lap. Stiles drops kisses across Derek’s wrinkled forehead, hairy cheek, and pointed ears before they shift back to normal. 

After they get cleaned up in the bathroom, Stiles cuddles against Derek, his fingers playing with the light smattering of hair across his chest, his head resting on Derek’s shoulder.

“Do you think I work too much?” Stiles asks.

Derek studies him intently for a moment. “Why would you ask that?”

“I didn’t know Patrick’s favorite show was _Bubble Guppies_.”

Derek smiles, but runs a hand through Stiles’ hair. “That doesn’t mean you don’t love your son.”

“So, you do think I work too much.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Stiles sighs. “I feel like I’m missing their childhood. You spend so much more time with them than I do. I miss half their bedtimes and bath times.”

“Stiles, you spend plenty of time with them. You’re a fantastic father. You can’t help it you have a job that’s a bit more demanding.” Derek rolls onto his side so he’s face to face with Stiles. “If you want to do their bedtimes and bath times, we can make that happen. I try not to bother you when you’re out in the garage.”

“I know,” Stiles says, lacing his fingers with Derek’s. “You’re the best. Maybe I should rearrange my schedule a little, or just tell them they’ll have to wait on some of my projects. I think I work too much. I spend half my evenings out in that fucking lab, bent over plant samples. I don’t feel like I get to see you, the kids, or even my dad enough. And don’t get me started on that backlogged DVR.”

Derek chuckles, and leans forward to kiss him. “I support whatever decision you make about work. I definitely won’t be sad if you cut back on your hours. I always miss you.” Stiles reaches out and rubs Derek’s cheek, his stubble rough under his hand. Derek turns his face and kisses his palm.

“Sometimes I don’t feel we’ll ever get it right,” Stiles admits. “We’re always arguing about something stupid, or angsting about something stupid. Remember when it used to be easy?”

Derek looks at Stiles incredulously. “Stiles, when was it ever easy for us? Was it before the years apart and other relationships, or afterwards, when we had no fucking clue how to live together?”

“Don’t you ever just want it to be easy?” Stiles asks.

“I just want to be with you,” Derek answers. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care.”

*

After Stiles leaves for work the next morning, Derek grabs his laptop and sits with Patrick and Evie on the couch. Patrick’s watching Nick Jr, and Evie’s drinking a bottle. Derek checks his e-mail, and before he clicks out of it, he brings up a new message.

_To: cora.hale@gmail.com  
From: dhs1988@gmail.com_

_Hey Cora,_

_How’s it going? How’s Borneo? Or is Kenya this month? I can’t keep up._

_Do you remember how old we were when our powers manifested? I don’t remember when it happened for you._

_Hope you’re well. Stiles says come see us some time. He misses you._

_Love you,  
Derek_

He hits send and then closes the laptop. He looks around, and then says, “Who wants to go to the park?”

“Me!” Patrick yells as he jumps off the couch. He runs upstairs, and Derek grabs Evie. She starts crying when he takes her bottle away, so he puts it back in her mouth and she makes a content noise. 

After dressing both Evie and Patrick into clothes fit for a cool autumn day, Derek loads them both into the car and drives to the nearest park. The playground is empty, which Derek is pleased about. He hates children; the only children he likes are the Pack’s.

Patrick climbs up into the fort, and Derek sits Evie on top of the slide and then pushes her. She squeals in delight as she glides down. At the bottom, she crawls off the slide and walks over to Derek on wobbly legs.

“Gin!” Derek blinks at her, and she grabs the leg of his jeans and looks up at him. “Gin!”

Derek puts her back on the slide and when she’s finished he lets her walk around alone as he digs out his cell phone.

**I think Evie just said a word.**

**You think she said a word?**

**I think she told me she wanted to go on the slide again.**

**What did she say?**

**Gin. Like again.**

**Fuck, I miss everything. But our daughter is talking!**

**I’ll try to film it and send it to you. Hey, I love you.**

Derek gets the video ready on his phone and then puts Evie on the slide. He pushes her down, filming her as she laughs, and then waits as she gets off the slide and waddles over to him. “Gin!”

**I attached the video.**

**OUR DAUGHTER IS TALKING! SHE’S A GENIUS!**

Derek laughs as he watches the kids, but suddenly he smells something that catches his attention. He’s not quite sure what it is, and he sniffs the air. Something about it feels wrong, and he stands up, scanning the area tensely. 

“Hey, Patrick, grab your sister so we can go.”

“But Daddy, I want to play!”

“Patrick! Now!” 

“No,” Patrick says, stomping his foot. Derek tears his eyes from the horizon and looks instead at Patrick, who is now crying and throwing a tantrum. Fuck.

“We are definitely going home now, young man,” Derek snaps, picking up Evie and grabbing Patrick’s hand. He struggles against Derek, trying to weasel out of his grip, but Derek holds on tight as he drags him towards the car. By the time they get there, Patrick is wolfed out. “Patrick, you do _not_ wolf out in public!” Derek yells, opening the car and sitting Evie in her car seat. She starts crying as Derek grabs Patrick and wrestles him into the car seat, his little nails leaving shallow scratches on Derek’s skin. “Enough!” Derek bellows, his eyes red. Patrick stops fighting and crying and stares at Derek in fear. His bottom lip starts wibbling. “You’re a very bad boy,” Derek says as he buckles him into the car seat.

“I’m sorry, Daddy!”

“You should be,” Derek says, moving around the car to buckle Evie into her car seat. He grabs her doll from the floor and she clutches it, eyes red and watery.

Derek rolls the windows down as he drives slowly down the street, trying to catch the scent. He glances in the rearview mirror, where Evie and Patrick are both sniffling and whining more quietly than before, so he calls Scott.

“Hey Derek, what’s up?”

“I caught the scent of something while at the park with the kids,” Derek explains. 

“What was it?”

“I don’t know. I can’t investigate with the kids, and Patrick was throwing a tantrum, but we need to look into it.”

“Are you out right now?”

“Yeah, just leaving the park.”

“I don’t have work for a few hours, if you wanna check it out.”

Derek drives to Scott’s house and leaves the kids with Allison before driving Scott back out to the site. He parks his car on the shoulder of the road, and they get out and sniff. 

“I smell it,” Scott says. 

Derek leads the way into the woods, shifting into his Beta form as soon as he enters the tree line. He and Scott split up, and soon he hears Scott calling, “Over here!” Derek runs through the woods and finds Scott kneeling beside a pile of bones and leftover animal carcasses.

“Doesn’t smell like an animal,” Derek says.

“Or a werewolf.”

“Could be an Omega. Or something else.” Derek inhales deeper. “I don’t recognize it. It just smells wrong.”

“Should we be worried?” Scott asks, scanning the trees.

“I think for now we should just be cautious,” Derek says, though a low-level of dread is settling in his belly.

“Should we tell Stiles and Allison?” Scott asks when they’re back inside the car.

“Stiles won’t speak to me for a month if I keep something like this from him,” Derek says, “and he’ll probably sleep on your couch.”

*

Stiles paces back and forth in the bedroom, running a hand through his already messy hair. “So, we shouldn’t be worried?”

“No. Not until something else happens.” 

Suddenly, Stiles stops and looks at Derek. “You’re already freaking out, aren’t you?”

“No,” Derek lies. He doesn’t tell Stiles that he’s already starting to plan for errant Omegas, wandering Packs, and supernatural bad guys. It has been awhile since Beacon Hills has seen any action, but Derek wants to be ready. He had spent all afternoon looking through the bestiary. 

“You’re lying. I can always tell when you’re lying.” Stiles walks over and drops onto the bed beside Derek. “Fuck, don’t shut me out.”

“I’m not shutting you out. There’s just no reason for you to worry about nothing.”

“You’re worried, therefore, I’m worried.”

“That’s unnecessary. I’m the Alpha, it’s my job – “

“Oh, don’t give me that ‘I’m the Alpha’ bullshit. That hasn’t worked for over a decade.” Stiles shifts on the bed, pulls his legs under him, and grabs Derek’s hand. “I’m your husband, your partner. So fuck the Alpha stuff, let me help.”

Derek sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “It’s probably nothing, but I can’t sit around and do nothing. Scott was unsettled, too. Whatever it is, it shouldn’t be here.”

Stiles squeezes his hand. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. And you will be okay.” He lays his head on Derek’s shoulder. “So will the kids and I. So, no freak out, okay?”

“Okay.”

*

Derek and Patrick are sitting in the floor, facing one another, Evie playing on a blanket nearby. Derek asks, “What is Pack?”

“Wolfie family!” Patrick answers. 

“Good,” Derek nods with a smile. “What’s the Alpha?”

“Daddy!”

“Yes, I’m the Alpha.”

“Alpha Daddy!” he exclaims. Evie starts babbling behind them, repeating, “Da-da-da-da.”

“What does it mean that I’m the Alpha?” Derek asks.

“You’re grumpy.”

Derek sighs. “No, that’s not right.” Patrick giggles. “What are you?”

“Baby!”

“In the Pack. What are you?” Derek asks.

“Beta!”

“Right!” Derek says. He leads Patrick through some more werewolf basics, then asks, “Who’s Pack?”

“Wolfies!” 

“Not all wolfies,” Derek says. “Is DD a wolfie?”

“No! DD is plant man.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “DD is human. But he’s Pack.”

“Pack!” Patrick yells. He stands up and walks over to Derek. He rubs his hand down Derek’s cheek and says, “Pack!”

“Good, I’m Pack.” Patrick kisses Derek’s nose and then walks over to Evie and runs his hand over her hair. 

“Pack!”

“Yes, Evie is Pack, too.”

Then Patrick walks up to the TV. “Pack!” 

“No, that’s a TV.”

Patrick touches the coffee table. “Pack!” He systematically goes around the entire living room, touching most of the furniture and yelling, “Pack!” before moving on into the dining room. 

Derek looks over at Evie, watching him and chewing on a plastic toy. “You want to wolf out for Daddy today?” Derek scoots over beside her and shifts. She squeals and claps her hands, dropping her toy to the blanket, forgotten. “Come on, Evie. Wolf out! Be a wolf!” He hears Patrick in the background repeating, “Pack! Pack!”

Evie grabs a handful of Derek’s fur on his jaw and pulls it hard. “Ouch,” Derek says, moving her hand away. “Don’t hurt Daddy, pumpkin.”

“Da-da-da-da,” she mumbles, rubbing her face against his neck. Then, she starts licking him. Derek digs out his cell phone as Evie runs her hand over Derek’s wrinkled forehead, slapping it as he shifts back to normal.

**I think Evie’s scent marking.**

**Duh, where have you been? Why did you think she’s been licking you for the past few weeks? I thought you were supposed to be the werewolf expert.**

**You’ve always been the werewolf expert, Stiles.**

**I know. :) It’s cause I’m awesome.**

**She’s been scent marking me today. Do you think it’s because she’s a werewolf?**

**Maybe. Maybe she picked it up from Patrick. He does that a lot. So do you. Hell, I think even I do it by now.**

**So, it’s not because she’s a werewolf?**

**I don’t know, love. Regardless, it’s a wolf trait.**

**You’re right. At least part of her feels instinct.**

**Derek, you do know that even if she’s “human” she’s still half a werewolf? She’s still your child.**

**I know.**

**Are you still stressing?**

**A little.**

**:( I love you. Don’t stress. Enjoy your daughter as is. She’s pretty neat. Mostly because she looks like me.**

**Shut up. Get back to your boring plants. I love you.**

**I love you, too.  
And plants aren’t boring :| You’re boring.**

**Stiles, go back to work.**

Derek chuckles as he slips the phone back into his pocket. He lays down on his back, lifting Evie up into the air, while Patrick walks around claiming things as Pack. Derek shifts, and Evie shrieks happily.

“Come on, wolf girl,” he says, sweeping Evie through the air like a plane.

*

Derek sits in front of Patrick’s small blue plastic table, on the floor because the matching plastic chairs that Patrick and Evie are sitting in would definitely not hold him even if he tried. Patrick hands Derek a Marvel Heroes coloring book to look through.

“Pick one from mine, Daddy!” he says. 

“No Batman today?” Derek asks, flipping past overly cartooned versions of Spiderman, Iron Man, and the Hulk.

“Batman is DD. You don’t like Batman.”

“I like Batman,” Derek says.

“Not like DD.”

“No one likes Batman like DD,” Derek laughs. He stops on a picture of Thor and shows it to Patrick. “This one okay?”

“Yeah! Color that one. I like that one.” Derek carefully tears the page out of the book and then hands it back to Patrick. Evie pushes her jungle animals coloring book towards Derek. She’s sucking contently on a pacifier.

“Oh, you want me to color one of these, too?” Derek asks. Evie slaps the table and then lunges forward, grabbing Patrick’s coloring book. 

“Give it back!” Patrick yells, snatching the coloring book. “It’s mine, Evie!”

“Patrick, Evie, stop it!” Derek says as the kids fight. Evie has it in a firm grasp, but Patrick is pulling it towards him.

“Evie, let go!” Patrick yells, his eyes flashing yellow as he reaches out and hits his sister. She starts crying, but doesn’t let go of the book.

“Patrick Stilinski-Hale!” Derek says in a stern voice. “You do _not_ hit your sister!”

“But she has my coloring book! She has her own baby coloring book! This is a big boy book, Pop-pop said so!” 

Derek starts to crawl around the table to pull the kids apart when he hears the ripping sound. He looks up, and the two kids are staring at each other, the spine of the coloring book ripped in half.

Patrick starts wailing. “Evie broke my book! It’s my favoritest book and she broke it!” Patrick jumps out of his chair, runs over to Evie, and starts hitting her on the head. Evie starts screaming, and Derek runs over and grabs Patrick’s hand.

“Patrick! No! You _never_ hit your sister!”

“But she broke my comic book!” Patrick is crying, his face completely red, his cheeks wet. Evie is crying so loudly that Derek’s afraid Patrick may have broken her brain.

“I don’t care. You never hit your sister.” Derek points to the time-out seat in the corner. “Time-out, Patrick.”

“But I – “

“Time. Out,” he growls.

Patrick stomps over to the time-out chair and drops into it, crossing his arms petulantly and still crying. Derek drops onto the floor beside Evie. She immediately jumps out of the chair and presses her face against his neck.

“Ssh, pumpkin, it’s okay,” Derek says quietly, rubbing his face over her head. “Patrick didn’t mean it. He loves you.”

“Ba-ba-ba-ba,” Evie says through her sobs, and then wipes her runny nose on the front of Derek’s Henley. Well, he thinks, it’s not the worst thing that’s ever been on his shirt.

A few minutes later, Derek is rocking Evie back and forth and Patrick is still in time out when the lock in the front door turns. All three heads turn as Stiles steps inside. He glances around, his brow creasing with worry.

“What happened?”

“Patrick hit Evie in the head because she took his coloring book and it got ripped in half.”

Stiles sets his bag on the table by the door and steps into the living room, Evie immediately waddling over to him. Derek gets up and goes across the room to where Patrick is still sitting in the time-out seat. “Do you understand why you’re in time-out?” Derek asks.

Patrick nods. “Cause I hit Evie.”

“That’s right.”

“And I should never hit Evie.”

“Correct. You should be nice to your sister. She’s still a baby. You need to look after her, and protect her.” Patrick nods again, his lip wibbling. Derek pulls him into a hug, rubbing his cheek against Patrick’s face. “I love you, Patrick.”

“I love you, too, Daddy. I’m sorry.” Patrick kisses Derek on the cheek and nuzzles his face against his neck. Patrick lets go of Derek and runs over the Stiles, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ leg. “Pack!”

“Huh?” Stiles asks, looking down at Patrick in confusion.

“Pack!” He rubs his face against Stiles’ thigh. “Pack!”

“We learned some stuff about werewolves today,” Derek explains. Stiles huffs in understanding.

Derek goes into the den and finds a roll of scotch tape in a drawer. He returns to the living room and sits down on the floor beside the blue plastic table. Patrick notices him and runs over just as Derek picks up the coloring book.

Patrick gasps. “Are you gonna fix it?”

Derek nods his head as he lines the two parts of the spine together. He’s just about to put the tape on it when a small body launches itself into him. Patrick has his arms around Derek’s neck, his body pressed against Derek’s.

“You’re the bestest daddy in the world! You can fix anything! DD, Daddy is gonna fix my coloring book!” Derek smiles into Patrick’s hair, inhaling the scent of pure joy and love radiating from him. He can’t deny he loves the sound of _bestest daddy in the world_ , either.

“Awesome!” Stiles says, running his fingers through Derek’s hair as he passes. He drops onto the floor beside Derek and lets Evie go. She walks around the table and crawls back onto her seat. 

“Daddy is the bestest because he’s the Alpha,” Patrick says. He stands beside Derek and watches as Derek tapes the coloring book back together as best he can. Patrick rubs a hand over his hair. “Pack!” He turns to Stiles and runs a hand over his hair. “Pack!”

Derek gives the coloring book back to Patrick, and he returns to his seat as Stiles picks up Derek’s picture. “Thor?”

Derek snatches it back. “I like Thor.”

“It’s all the muscles, isn’t it? And the long, dreamy hair, and that really large hammer…” Stiles grins.

“I thought muscles were _your_ thing,” Derek replies with a smirk.

“I cannot tell a lie,” Stiles says, leaning forward and pulling Derek into a deep kiss. They spend a few moments kissing, Derek smelling the fresh, earthy scent of plants, dirt, and outdoors that always clings to Stiles. He loves the way it smells, the way it reminds him of running through the woods. He smiles against his mouth and presses his forehead against Stiles’. 

“How was work?”

“Fine.”

“Pack!” They look over to where Patrick is flipping through the coloring book. “Pack!”

“You may have the entire Avengers in your Pack now,” Stiles jokes. “He’s taking this Pack thing really seriously, isn’t he?”

“Apparently, I spent an entire year refusing to wear clothes because I wanted to be like a wolf,” Derek says. “I thought that since wolves didn’t wear clothes, and Mom didn’t wear clothes when she was a wolf, I didn’t have to wear clothes either.”

Stiles buries his face against Derek’s shoulder, laughing. “How old were you?”

“Around Patrick’s age, three or four, I think.”

“That’s adorable,” Stiles says, kissing Derek again before leaning over the table. 

Evie pushes her coloring book towards Stiles. “Da-da.” She bangs the coloring book with both her hands. “Da-da!” 

“You want me to color a jungle animal?” Stiles asks, flipping the book open to a random page. Evie claps and babbles happily. “How about the lion. Do you like the lion, Evie?” Stiles rips the page out and hands Evie back her coloring book. 

All four of them start coloring, Evie scribbling colors all over the page, Patrick attempting to stay in the lines, Derek coloring precisely and with the correct colors, and Stiles coloring the lion whatever color he picks up, with his own added doodles drawn in the background.

After they’re finished, Stiles collects them all and hangs them on the refrigerator.

*

Stiles reads the recipe again, trying to figure out why it doesn’t look like the picture. “I think I screwed up,” he says. “I followed the recipe exactly.”

“Smells good,” Derek says. He’s on his laptop at the small dinette in their kitchen. Evie and Patrick are in Derek’s line of sight, playing on an activity blanket in the living room. Stiles unconsciously gravitates towards Derek and leans his hip against him. Derek automatically puts an arm around Stiles’ waist, his hand slipping underneath Stiles’ shirt to scratch along his lower back. Stiles likes that Derek has no reason to be sitting in the kitchen other than to be near him. After being away from Derek at work all day, it’s nice to just share the same space as him.

“I think I screwed it up.” 

Derek lifts his eyes from the computer screen and stares up at Stiles. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

Stiles shakes his head and crosses back to the stove. He takes an experimental bite. “This is pretty bad.”

“Let me try,” Derek says when he comes up behind Stiles. He wraps his arms around his waist as Stiles holds a bite up to his mouth. Derek grimaces as he chews. “Okay, I take it back. It’s pretty bad.”

“Dammit,” Stiles says, tossing the fork down in frustration. 

“Stiles, it’s okay,” Derek says, nosing against Stiles’ temple. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“Derek, it’s 6:30, and we have no dinner.”

“We’ll call for takeout. No big deal.”

Stiles groans and turns off the stove. “God, I suck.”

“You don’t suck. You always make wonderful meals. One fluke doesn’t make you a bad cook.” Derek kisses the side of his head and then pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. “Chinese? Pizza? What should we have?”

They are interrupted by a sound of knocking at the door. Stiles follows Derek to the front door, Patrick suddenly leaning against Stiles’ legs and watching in curiosity. Derek opens the door, and Stiles smiles brightly when he sees who’s on the other side. Cora.

“What are you doing here?” Derek asks, pulling her into a bear hug. “I thought you were on the other side of the world.”

“Well, if you’d write or call more than every few months _maybe_ you could keep up with me.”

“No one could keep up with you.” Derek’s grinning, and Stiles doesn’t have to be a werewolf to feel the happiness radiating from him.

“Is that Patrick?” Cora asks, squatting down so she’s eyelevel with Patrick. He hides his face in Stiles’ legs. “Aww, he’s shy.”

Stiles turns around and picks him up, and Patrick wraps his arms around Stiles’ neck and hides his face against Stiles’ shoulder. “Hey buddy,” Stiles says, bouncing him lightly, “why’re you so shy?” Patrick just holds on to Stiles tighter. 

“Da-da-da-da,” Evie mumbles as she comes walking up to Cora, holding her arms up.

“This one’s not shy,” Cora laughs, picking Evie up and covering her face with kisses. Evie shrieks gleefully, and Patrick lifts his head slightly. “So, she hasn’t started showing signs of being a werewolf yet?” 

“Is that why you’re here?” Derek asks, leading the way into the living room. He sits beside Cora on the couch, and Stiles takes the recliner. Patrick is still clinging to him, peering at Cora curiously. “When I e-mailed you, I didn’t expect you to show up.”

“I figured what better reason to come see you,” she responds, kissing and tickling Evie. “The kids are getting so big. And it doesn’t appear that you two idiots have done any permanent damage yet.”

“So funny.” Derek glares at her.

“Da-da-da-da,” Evie says, rubbing Cora’s face. 

“How old is she now?”

“Just over a year.”

“She’s not talking either?”

They both shake their heads. Patrick turns to Stiles and whispers, “DD, who is that?”

“That is your Aunt Cora. She’s Daddy’s sister.” Patrick looks over at her, moving away from Stiles a little. “Do you want to go see her?” Patrick turns and looks at Stiles, looking up at him with scared hazel eyes. “It’s okay.”

Patrick crawls down from Stiles’ lap and crosses the room slowly. Derek takes Evie and Cora smiles as Patrick approaches. “Hey Patrick. I bet you don’t remember the last time I saw you.” He shakes his head. 

When Patrick gets to her, Cora slides down to the floor. “Are you like Daddy’s Evie?”

Cora nods. “Yep. Unfortunately.” Derek thumps her on the head.

Patrick reaches out and rubs his hand down the side of Cora’s face. “Pack!”

Stiles and Derek burst out laughing.

*

They order pizza, and sit around catching up with Cora for the rest of the night. She ends up on the recliner with both Patrick and Evie on her lap, both vying for her attention.

“This is my favoritest toy,” Patrick announces, holding up a stuffed green Hulk. 

“Not the Batman?” Stiles asks from the couch, where he’s stretched out, back leaning against Derek with Derek’s arms around him. 

“That’s your favoritest toy, DD,” Patrick says as he puts on his Iron Man face mask. 

Cora laughs, and Derek says, “You laugh, but it’s true. Should have seen Stiles on Christmas morning. It was like Santa came for him.”

“I’m not interested in Santa coming for me,” Stiles jokes, grabbing Derek’s side in the one spot he knows drives him wild. Derek spasms, exhaling something between a grunt and a laugh.

“Ew, guys, seriously?” Cora exclaims, her face scrunched up. “It’s so not cute anymore. I’m not sure it was ever cute.”

“Oh, shut up,” Stiles says, tossing a pillow at her head. It narrowly misses Evie, who’s playing with her light up Glowworm. “Crap,” Stiles mutters, snorting.

“How are you two parents again?” Cora asks.

“We ask ourselves that question every day,” Stiles says. 

Patrick climbs down out the chair and runs out of the room, the Hulk under his arm. Cora lifts Evie, who holds her Glowworm up to Cora in question. Cora squeezes it, and Evie laughs around the pacifier.

“I think most cubs show signs of wolfness by this age,” Cora says, looking down at Evie in her lap, who has pulled out her pacifier and is trying to shove the Glowworm’s head into her mouth. “When did Patrick start shifting?”

Stiles looks up at Derek, trying to remember exactly. “His eyes changed when he was younger than Evie,” Derek replies, and Stiles nods in agreement. Patrick chooses that moment to run back into the room, with a sheet tied around his neck, muttering to the Hulk. With his Iron Man mask, sheet, and Batman utility belt, he looks like a bad superhero fusion. “When he was like nine months or so?”

“Hmm.” Cora ruffles Evie’s dark curls thoughtfully. “How old is she?”

“Sixteen months.”

Cora shrugs. “She might still be a wolf. I don’t think it’s like set in stone or anything.” She lifts her eyes and looks at them. “I mean, kids walk, potty train, and start learning to talk at different times. She hasn’t started talking, either.”

“There’s nothing wrong with her,” Derek snaps all of a sudden. Cora freezes and stares at him with wide eyes, and Stiles sits up, glancing at him carefully.

“I didn’t say there was,” Cora says slowly. 

“You implied it.” 

“Hey,” Stiles says, putting his hand on Derek’s arm and rubbing. “Calm down.” Derek turns and glares at Stiles, and Stiles glares right back. Derek’s being ridiculous, and he’s not exactly sure why. Even if they were both slightly worried about Evie, there is no reason for Derek to be overreacting like he is.

Derek exhales slowly, seething beside him. He wrenches away from Stiles and crosses his arms over his chest. Stiles sighs and looks over at the clock.

“Oh gosh! Look at the time. Wanna help me put the kids to bed?” he asks Cora. She nods a little too enthusiastically; she obviously is as eager to get out of the living room and away from Derek as Stiles is. Stiles takes Evie from her, while Cora goes over to get Patrick from where he’s playing with his Gotham City play set. Stiles carries Evie over to Derek, who unthaws long enough to take her and nuzzle her. Stiles doesn’t miss how Derek’s whispering to Evie as he clings to her a bit more tightly than usual. Derek hugs Patrick goodnight next, and it takes a good five minutes to pull Patrick away from explaining to Derek in detail what he’d just been playing. Part of it is Derek’s fault; he refuses to let Patrick go.

They put Patrick to bed first, who whines a bit until Cora promises to take him to the park the next day and be his Batgirl.

“Cat Woman! Black Widow! Or Supergirl!” Patrick exclaims as Stiles pulls the blankets around his shoulders and lays his stuffed Hulk beside him on the bed.

“Go to sleep, munchkin, so you can go to the park.” Stiles leans down and kisses Patrick, and Patrick throws his skinny arms around Stiles, hugging him tightly.

“I love you, DD.”

“I love you, too.” Stiles kisses him again, ruffles his hair, then turns out the light, leaving only the dinosaur night light burning.

When they enter Evie’s room, Stiles shuts the door behind him and walks over to the changing table. 

“Is Derek okay?” Cora whispers as she comes over to stand beside Stiles. “I didn’t mean anything by what I said. He e-mailed me.”

“I know,” Stiles sighs, tugging off Evie’s dress. He points to the stack of fresh diapers sitting on a shelf as he starts to change the baby. “He’s being really sensitive about this whole werewolf thing,” Stiles explains as Cora sets a diaper on the changing table. While Stiles changes her, Evie reaches up, grabs her foot, and pulls it down to her mouth and starts gnawing on it. “I don’t really get it.”

“I don’t either,” Cora says as she hands Stiles the baby powder. “She’s healthy, she’s obviously extremely happy and loves you two very much. We had a human brother. You’re human. I don’t know why it’s a big deal.”

After Stiles fits a new diaper on Evie, he leans down and blows a raspberry on her tummy. She laughs and kicks her arms and legs, and he does it again. “I get so mad at him,” Stiles admits as he walks over and grabs a onesie for Evie to sleep in. It’s pink and covered with smiling ladybugs with bows on their antennae. Cora is standing over Evie, playing peek-a-boo with her. “How can he look at this perfect child and wish for anything different?” Stiles snaps the onesie together and lifts Evie in his arms. He bounces her slightly as he holds her. “He just looks at her sometimes, with this look on his face like he’s waiting for her to be something different. I just want to punch him and tell him to enjoy her like she is. She’s growing so fast; I mean, hell, Patrick’s already three. Before you know it, they’ll be in college.”

Cora puts a hand on Stiles’ shoulder with a soft laugh. “Don’t think that’ll be happening anytime soon.”

“You don’t know, Cora. Sometimes I feel like we just had Patrick and I still haven’t gotten used to having _one_ kid, much less _two_!”

“Should I go talk to him?” Cora asks as Stiles lays Evie down in the crib. Her eyes are already starting to droop, her mouth making popping sounds. Stiles slips her pacifier in her mouth and sets the Glowworm beside her. She hums as she sucks on the pacifier, and Stiles runs his fingers through her dark curls. Her eyes immediately close.

“No,” Stiles says. “At least not tonight. Maybe try talking to him tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry,” Cora says as Stiles walks towards the door. He stops and pulls her into a tight hug.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Stiles says against her hair. “I’m so glad you’re here. Derek is too.” He lets her go and they walk out of the room, leaving the door cracked. “You two should do something, sibling bonding or whatever. Go running out in the forest shifted and naked and eat rabbits and stuff.” Stiles snickers at Cora’s look of horror.

“Those are so many images I will never get out of my head, asshole.” She pushes him, and he stumbles down the last few stairs and almost face plants on the carpet. Cora snorts, and he flicks her off.

Derek’s not in the living room when they return, and Stiles sighs in exasperation as he drops onto the couch. “Wanna watch a movie?” 

“Sure,” she says, tucking her legs underneath her as she settles in the recliner. “Where’s Derek?”

“Off pouting somewhere. Or glaring at inanimate objects. Who the fuck knows?” Stiles doesn’t bother to hide his irritation or lower his voice. Derek deserves to hear it if he’s still in the house.

Cora and Stiles watch at a movie, but spend most of the time talking and catching up, and finally abandon the movie and sit on the floor playing cards on the coffee table. By the time they go upstairs to bed, Derek still is nowhere to be found.

Stiles doesn’t wait up for him.

*

Stiles wakes up when he feels the bed dip, and rolls over to look at the clock. It’s a little past midnight. He moves closer to Derek after he settles in bed, snuggling against him. “You’re an asshole,” Stiles mumbles sleepily as Derek’s arms circle him.

“I know.”

“Love you,” Stiles says, already drifting back off.

“Love you, too.”

*

Stiles wakes up to an empty bed. He glances at the clock and notices that it’s almost ten a.m. He panics for a moment, but then smiles. Taking care of the kids, cooking breakfast, letting Stiles sleep in – all Derek’s way of saying he’s sorry. 

God, Stiles loves that stupid, emotionally stunted grumpy werewolf.

He’s about to get out of bed when he remembers that he has a free morning. And a hard dick. He rolls onto his back, shoves his hand inside his briefs, and starts jerking himself off. It doesn’t take long – a little tug on his balls, a fantasy about Derek bending him over his desk at work and fucking him hard – before Stiles comes over his hand.

He gets out of bed, pulls off his soiled underwear, and tosses them towards the hamper as he walks to the bathroom. He washes up and gets dressed before going downstairs. Cora is in the floor playing with Patrick and Evie, and Derek’s at the stove, making pancakes.

“Morning,” Stiles yawns. He walks over and kisses Derek’s cheek. “Blueberry, my favorite.”

Derek turns and drags his nose along Stiles’ neck. “I would have helped with that, you know,” he murmurs against Stiles’ skin.

“I know,” Stiles says. “Later. That was only the warm up.”

“Werewolf hearing!” Cora yells.

“My house!” Derek responds. Stiles just laughs.

After breakfast, Stiles grabs Derek and pulls him upstairs. When the door to their bedroom closes, Derek grins and moves in to kiss Stiles, but Stiles turns away, causing Derek’s lips to land on his chin. 

“What?” Derek asks.

“Go running with your sister,” Stiles says. He gives Derek his pointed “I always know what’s right” look.

“I’d much rather fuck you,” Derek says, voice seductive and gravelly as he ruts against Stiles.

“Damn,” Stiles says, pushing Derek away. “What is with you today? It’s not even close to the full moon.”

“What do you mean, what’s with me today?” Derek asks, pulling back with a glower. “Last I checked, nothing had to be ‘with me’ to want to fuck my husband. It’s 24/7 kind of thing.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “You need to go run with Cora. Last night, you were ridiculous.” Derek growls in agitation and turns away. “Don’t be a baby.”

“Look, you have absolutely _no idea_ what I’m going through, okay?” Derek snaps.

“Then tell me!” Stiles yells. “We’re past the whole silent, brooding asshole werewolf thing. Use your words, Derek!”

“Maybe there are some things you shouldn’t know!” Derek yells. Stiles flinches like he’s been hit. The expression on Derek’s face immediately changes, and he deflates as he reaches out for Stiles. But Stiles recoils. “Stiles…”

“No,” Stiles says. “You’re right. It’s not like we’re married, have two kids, share a bills and a bank account, that I have access to your ridiculous amount of insurance money from the fire, not like you’ve held me while I almost bled to death on you, or that that I’ve saved you from almost dying on countless occasions, or that you’ve had your tongue, fingers, and cock inside every inch of me, that you know every thought, fear, and emotion I’ve ever felt, or that we’ve pledged ourselves to each other completely and have gone through every werewolf mating ritual known to man.” Stiles shakes his head, mouth turned down in an exaggerated frown. “You’re right. There are things I just shouldn’t know about you.”

Stiles storms towards the door, but Derek grabs his arm before he reaches it. “Stiles, wait.”

“No,” Stiles snaps. He turns and glares at Derek, who looks like he’s in pain. “Go run with your sister and deal with whatever the fuck I shouldn’t know about.” Stiles opens the bedroom door and slams it behind him, right in Derek’s face.

*

“Hey kiddo,” the sheriff says when Stiles shows up at his house half an hour later with the kids. 

“Pop-pop!” Patrick screams, leaping into his grandfather’s arms from the floor.

“God, I’ll never get used to that,” the sheriff says as Patrick nuzzles his neck while growling. “It’s weird enough watching Derek and Scott leaping onto buildings, much less my grandson doing the same to me.” Melissa comes into the room and takes Evie from Stiles with a grin.

“How’s my baby girl?” she coos, and Evie licks her cheek. “Someone’s scent marking.”

“Sorry,” Stiles says, and Melissa waves her hand dismissively.

“This is nothing new. Evie’s my seventh werewolf grandkid.”

“We don’t know if she’s a werewolf yet,” Stiles points out. “And Evie’s not technically your granddaughter.” 

Melissa slaps Stiles on the back of the head. Hard. “You hush your mouth right now. I’m the only grandmother these two kids have. Doesn’t matter that they’re not my blood; I don’t love them any less.”

Melissa takes Evie and Patrick into the kitchen with promises of baking cookies, and the sheriff turns to Stiles and frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Stiles says. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

“Well, you’ve got that furrowed expression, you haven’t smiled once since you walked in – and that grin you shot Melissa didn’t reach your eyes – and your socks don’t match.” 

Stiles looks down at his feet, where his socks are barely visible. They, in fact, do not match. One is yellow with ice cream cones, and the other is one of Derek’s black ones. He’d been so angry when he’d gotten dressed he had just grabbed two socks from their shared sock drawer.

With a sigh, Stiles drops to the couch. “I had a fight with Derek.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Stiles says. “Derek’s just being…”

“A stubborn ass?” the sheriff finishes for him.

Stiles laughs. “Something like that.”

“No one ever said marriage was easy,” the sheriff says. “I loved your mother more than life itself, but sometimes she could be so infuriating. We’d go without speaking all day, but – “

“You’d always make up before you went to bed,” Stiles finishes for him. He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Derek and I never go to bed mad, either. But last night he just _wouldn’t come to bed_ , and I fell asleep. He apologized in his own way this morning, but then we fought again.” Stiles looks at his dad sadly. “I’m just tired. I’ve been working a lot, there’s the kids, I’ve been fighting a lot with Derek.”

“Raising a family is hard,” the sheriff says. “It does get easier though. Usually.” He pats Stiles on the shoulder. “This can’t be worse than some of the other things you two have been through.”

“Just different.”

Stiles spends the day with the sheriff. They take the kids to the park, and Patrick walks around touching strangers and exclaiming, “Pack!” After he does this to a handful of kids (and two very confused adults), Stiles has to take Patrick aside and talk to him. He stops touching random people, but he goes around claiming the whole playground as Pack. At least he’s not touching strangers, Stiles thinks.

Derek doesn’t text him all day, and when the sheriff catches Stiles staring down at his phone with a frown, he puts an arm around his shoulders and starts talking about plants. Stiles knows he’s trying to distract Stiles because his dad _never_ talks about plants, but he appreciates it just the same.

Derek and Cora are gone when Stiles gets home. Stiles goes outside with the kids, letting them play in their playhouse while he works in his garden. Patrick’s constantly repeating “Pack!” in the background, and Stiles keeps one ear trained on the kids as he weeds.

Weeding helps relax him. As soon as he had started working with magical herbs in high school, he had felt a peace he’d never achieved through anything else. He loves plants, loves watching them grow, loves how powerful something so simple could be. Being with his plants helps him focus in a way nothing else has ever been able to.

Stiles finishes weeding a bed and stands up to stretch. He glances behind him to where the kids are playing, and sees Evie on the porch of the playhouse, a baby doll and tea set around her. Patrick’s nowhere in sight, though.

“Patrick?” Stiles calls out. He listens, but doesn’t hear anything. Immediately, his heart starts pounding and he hurries over to the playhouse. Evie holds her doll towards him, but he rushes past her, yelling Patrick’s name. He’s not inside the playhouse, or around it.

He’s only three; where could he have gone?

Stiles remembers the scent Derek and Scott had picked up. _Oh god,_ he thinks. _What if someone has taken my son from right under my nose?_

He scoops up Evie with one arm and dials Derek blindly with the other as he rushes around the house. “Patrick!” Stiles screams. “Oh god, please,” Stiles murmurs. “Patrick!” His heart is beating so wildly that he almost chokes, and his breath is coming in shorter and shorter gasps. He cannot have a panic attack; he cannot have a panic attack while he’s carrying his daughter and his son is missing.

“ _You’ve reached Derek. Leave a message_.”

“I can’t find Patrick,” Stiles yells frantically. “He was just here, and now he’s not. I don’t know what to do,” he sobs, the tears rolling down his face. He doesn’t care. He’s terrified and alone, and _why is Derek not picking up his phone?_ “Call me.”

Stiles shoves his phone into his pocket and stops in his tracks. His breathing is still labored, and his arms are tired from running around carrying Evie. He sniffles, and Evie touches the tears on his face and then licks them.

He barely hears it, a soft muffled sound. He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe as he listens for it again. “Pack!”

A hysterical laugh escapes his mouth. Patrick is fine. He’s _fine._ Yet, Stiles still has no clue where he is.

He listens closely again, and follows the uninterrupted babble. The trails leads him to the front porch, to a small opening leading under the house that Stiles didn’t even know was there. He sits Evie down carefully and crouches by the hole to look inside. It’s dark, but he sees two glowing gold eyes turn towards him.

“DD?”

“Hey, munchkin,” Stiles says as calmly as he can. “Can you come out from under there for me?”

Patrick does as he’s told, crawling from under the house with an armful of G.I. Joes and Barbies. Stiles is crying, left over fear and adrenaline mixing with the overwhelming relief. The moment Patrick sees Stiles, his eyes glow gold again and tufts of hair sprout on his cheeks. 

“Why are you crying, DD?” Patrick asks, looking around with his teeth bared. “You’re scared.”

Stiles just cries fresh tears as he pulls Patrick into a tight embrace. He clings to his son, face buried in his hair. “I didn’t know where you were,” Stiles finally says. “I was scared.”

Patrick leans up and kisses Stiles’ nose. “I’m okay, DD. I was playing wolfies.”

Stiles leads the kids inside, and as he walks up the front steps, he sends Derek a text. _Ignore my message. Everything fine. No need to rush home._

*

Derek knows nothing is wrong, but there’s an instinctual need drawing him home. He’d read the text message before he listened to Stiles’ voicemail, but hearing Stiles on the phone…to say it upset Derek is putting it mildly. Derek had wanted to protect him and his son, make sure they were safe, stop Stiles from panicking and crying. Even though he knew they _were_ safe, he had an instinctual need to be there and make sure for himself.

He’s in full wolf form, tearing through the trees as he races home. Cora’s behind him, slower on two legs; he hadn’t even said anything to her when he took off. He just threw aside his clothes and phone, shifted into his wolf, and headed towards his cubs.

As soon as he gets close enough to detect their scents, something in Derek loosens. When he runs towards the house, he can hear three distinct heartbeats, and if he concentrates, he can hear murmurs of their voices. The clawing need inside him settles, but that itch beneath his skin to be with his family is driving him wild.

When he enters the backyard, he can smell the lingering scent of Stiles’ panic, an acrid burning taste in his mouth that makes him gag. He shifts back to his human form on the back porch and grabs the pair of sweatpants he keeps just inside the door. He follows the sounds of their voices and heartbeats upstairs to Patrick’s bedroom.

Derek opens the door, and finds Stiles, Patrick, and Evie on the floor. Stiles is lying beside Patrick on his stomach, halfway out of Patrick’s superhero play tent. Stiles is reading to him, while Evie tosses blocks towards the wall.

Derek’s shifted into his Beta form, Alpha eyes honing in on one, two, three heartbeats, and the scent of Stiles’ relief at seeing him filling his nostrils. His attention focuses on Patrick, who wolfs out the moment Derek comes through the door.

“You’re okay.” Derek lets the scent of family calm him until his features morph back, leaving just his eyes red.

“Yeah,” Stiles says as Derek drops to his knees in front of him. “We’re okay.”

Derek grabs Stiles roughly around the neck and crashes their mouths together, sharing a bruising kiss with him that is more teeth and tongue than anything. But Stiles doesn’t seem to mind, kissing him back with the same unreserved fervor.

When Derek pulls away, he looks at Stiles, that suffocating need curling up his throat until it’s almost choking him. He looks into Stiles’ beautiful brown eyes, and it anchors him; as long as Stiles and his kids are okay, Derek is okay.

“I told you we were okay,” Stiles says softly. He wraps his fingers around Derek’s wrist and drags his thumb reassuringly across the soft skin on the inside of his wrist. “Your son had a little too much fun.”

“I scared DD,” Patrick giggles, face back human except his shining eyes. 

“What happened?” Derek asks, voice raw with emotion.

“There’s a hole under the front porch,” Stiles explains. He reaches over and ruffles Patrick’s hair. “This one found it and crawled inside.”

“My wolfie Pack needed a den!” he says.

“What?”

“He was playing,” Stiles elaborates. 

Derek nods, then stands and walks from the room. His emotions are whirling around him, the heightened sense of protection crashing down around him with the knowledge that everything is okay. He stalks down the hall, into their bedroom to get some air. He paces around the room, senses focused on the three steady heartbeats, then a fourth when Cora enters the house and runs up the stairs. Derek flexes his fingers and inhales slowly as he listens to the murmur of Cora and Stiles’ voices.

“Hey,” Stiles says moments later as he comes into the room and closes the door behind him. “I didn’t meant to scare you, it’s – “

Derek doesn’t let him finish. His fangs and claws suddenly appear as his forehead morphs and hair sprouts from his cheeks. His eyes burn red as he pushes Stiles back against the door and covers him. Stiles lets out a small surprised squeak when his back makes contact with the door, but his arms automatically go around Derek’s neck.

Derek _needs_ Stiles. There’s a hole inside him, needing to be filled. He doesn’t understand these moods, just goes with them with the same instincts he uses to guide him as an Alpha, the same instincts his wolf trusted when he was young. Instincts that were never wrong, that would have saved him from a lifetime of pain if he’d have listened to them.

Derek presses his face into Stiles’ neck, just breathing him in and exhaling against his skin. Stiles’ scent invades his brain, combining pleasantly with the sounds of his children laughing with Cora down the hall. When Stiles’ scent has completely engulfed his senses, he starts kissing his way along the column of Stiles’ neck and the underside of his jaw. When Derek gets to Stiles’ mouth, it’s just as needy and responsive, and the fact that Stiles _gets_ it soothes some of the ache.

Derek grabs Stiles around the waist, easily carrying him across the room until he can drop Stiles carefully on the mattress. Stiles reaches for him, but Derek rolls Stiles onto his belly and yanks his shorts and underwear down in one swoop, always mindful of his claws against Stiles’ pale skin.

“Derek,” Stiles says breathlessly, his hand producing a bottle of lube from one of the many places they keep it stashed around their bedroom. Derek pops the top with the claw on his thumb as he hooks his finger along Stiles’ crack, carefully spreading him open with one hand. He pours the clear liquid directly onto Stiles’ fluttering hole, watching as it slides down his crack onto his balls. Derek drags his fingers through the wetness, claws lightly scratching Stiles’ skin before he slicks his cock and thrusts into Stiles.

Stiles cries out as he pushes his hips back against Derek, hands grappling at the comforter as Derek holds him still and fucks him. Buried deep in Stiles’ warmth, the knot in Derek’s chest starts to lessen. He can smell the salty, tangy scent of Stiles’ precome, can smell the combined scent of _them_ lingering on Stiles’ skin and the smell of their scents mixing as Derek fucks him harder. Derek turns his face and drags the tips of his fangs along the exposed column of Stiles’ neck, laps at the pulse point to feel Stiles’ quick heartbeat beneath his tongue.

Derek grips Stiles’ hips tighter, careful not to puncture his skin with his claws, as he lifts up to fuck into him faster. His eyes sweep over the expanse of Stiles’ back, his t-shirt pushed up under his arms. Derek’s eyes flicker from mole to mole, a pattern he’s had memorized for years and could recall as easily as his own name.

“Fuck,” Stiles moans, contracting around Derek as he comes on their comforter. Stiles feels so tight around him, surrounding Derek so completely, that Derek growls and comes deep inside him.

Derek grabs Stiles around the waist, and keeping his cock buried inside him, lowers them gently onto the floor. Derek’s leaning back against the bed, Stiles in his lap, his head resting against Derek’s shoulder and turned into Derek’s neck. Idly, Derek drags his now human nails along Stiles’ overly sensitive cock, sticky with come. Derek can hear Patrick talking to Cora down the hall, and the soft thud of Evie’s blocks as she tosses them onto the floor. He focuses on them, on Stiles’ warm body pressed against him. 

“You okay?” Stiles asks, still catching his breath.

“Are you?” Derek kisses Stiles’ forehead.

Stiles shifts, and Derek’s disappointed when he slips out of Stiles. Stiles turns around, half-assed tugging his pants up so he can straddle Derek’s lap. He laces his fingers together behind Derek’s head. 

“I’ve had better days,” Stiles says. “I was so scared when I couldn’t find Patrick. I totally overreacted, but the only thing I could think about was him being taken away.”

Derek peppers kisses all over Stiles’ face. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“I just kept thinking, if I was a werewolf, I’d have been able to smell him, or hear someone if they took him. It was one of the few times I’ve ever wished I wasn’t human.”

Derek brushes his hand along Stiles’ cheek, then through his hair, finally curling his fingers around the nape of Stiles’ neck. “You don’t have to be a werewolf to protect them.”

“I know.” Stiles rests his forehead against Derek’s. “I don’t want to fight.”

“I’m so sorry,” Derek says. “What I said, it was uncalled for. I didn’t mean it, I – “

“Ssh,” Stiles says, two fingers over Derek’s lips. “I know.”

“You don’t,” Derek says. “But I promise, I will try to explain to you so you’ll understand.”

“Okay.” Stiles kisses him again, and they’re still sticky and sweaty and half-dressed as they kiss each other.

A knock lands on the door a few minutes later. “Um, guys?” Cora asks awkwardly. “Everything’s okay, right? I’m guessing it is, cause the kids are fine and you two are at it like usual, but I’m just making sure. Derek kinda freaked me out.”

Stiles laughs against Derek’s neck, and Derek holds him close, smiling.

“We’re good,” Derek says.

“Okay then,” Cora says. “I’m gonna, um, let you two finish and go make dinner.”

Derek is okay with that plan and goes back to kissing Stiles.

*

“You should talk to him, you know,” Cora says quietly as she and Derek empty the dishwasher. Derek glances over his shoulder to where Stiles is playing in the floor with the kids. He turns back to the dishes and grunts. Cora sighs beside him as she places a plate in the cabinet. “He’ll understand. He loves you, and he gets more than you give him credit for.”

“Are you lecturing _me_ about my own husband?” Derek scoffs. 

“It seems you’ve forgotten.”

“I’ve been married to him for six years. He couldn’t have been an Alpha’s mate if he didn’t understand stuff,” Derek practically growls.

“Then maybe you should act accordingly,” Cora growls back. Derek glares at her, and Cora glares back. 

They’re locked in an angry stare off until Stiles’ voice interrupts them. “Um, guys? Everything okay in there? I’d prefer we not have any dishware casualties because I really like those plates. And yes, believe it or not, I care about plates, but they’re the really nice china that Chris gave us when we got married, and if I’ve managed not to chip it so far, then you two surely cannot.”

“DD, why is Daddy mad?” Patrick asks as Derek pulls his eyes away from Cora and glares at the pans instead.

“You know how you and Evie get into little arguments? Daddy and Aunt Cora are doing the same thing.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what siblings do sometimes.”

“Aunt Cora is Daddy’s sibbing?”

“Yep. Like Evie is your sibling.”

“Did Aunt Cora take Daddy’s toy?”

“Probably, your daddy can be really selfish.”

“DADDY, YOU SHOULDN’T BE SHELLFISH, IT’S BAD!” Patrick yells, and Derek smiles despite himself.

“Thanks, Patrick. I’ll remember that,” Derek responds.

“You’re still being a stubborn ass,” Cora mutters.

“Shut up and mind your own business.”

“How do you stay married to him?” Cora calls out behind her.

“It’s not without difficulty,” Stiles jokes, and Derek bristles. He’s suddenly angry, so very angry, the day just compounding from all the emotional ups and downs until he’s striding through the kitchen. Derek takes off through the back door, pulling off his shirt and shifting before he’s even off the porch.

*

Derek’s still in his wolf form, curled up on the edge of a cliff overlooking a valley, when Stiles finds him half an hour later. He sits beside Derek without a word, and Derek noses at Stiles’ knee until Stiles buries his fingers in Derek’s fur. Derek moves closer so he can curl his body around Stiles with his head resting in Stiles’ lap, his muzzle pressed against Stiles’ hip and stomach.

“I was just joking,” Stiles says quietly. “Maybe poorly timed, but you know it’s not true. Definitely no reason to throw a tantrum and run out without a word like a big grumpy baby.” Derek turns his head slightly and nips at the inside of Stiles’ arm. Stiles yanks Derek’s fur in retaliation. 

“You’re regressing, you know,” Stiles continues. His voice is barely audible over the soft breeze. Derek huffs a sigh and noses his way underneath the hem of Stiles’ shirt. If they’re going to have this conversation, Derek needs to feel grounded. When his nose drags against Stiles’ skin, the comforting scent of Stiles all around calms him, and when he licks Stiles’ belly, some of the pent up anger drains from him. “You’re not this angry, grumpy asshole who hides in the woods when he gets pissed off anymore. You use your words now. Well, you usually do. Not so much lately.”

Stiles is quiet for awhile, his fingers combing through Derek’s fur. The feel of Stiles’ fingers on him in this form makes him feel so warm and safe that Derek dozes off until Stiles speaks again. 

“I know why you’re acting this way, about Evie,” Stiles says. “I’m not stupid. I know you, Derek, even though you suddenly think you’re alone and as mysterious and detached as you used to be.” He sighs, and Derek presses his nose against Stiles’ skin as he scoots closer. Derek doesn’t like the sadness, frustration, anger, disappointment, hurt, and other myriad scents coming from Stiles. 

“You think that being a werewolf is the best way to keep her safe,” Stiles explains. “I know that the fear of losing them is still sometimes crippling for you; I can see it on your face when you slip into that headspace. I know that you’d love her no matter what she is, and you know that being a werewolf won’t really keep them any safer, but you’re too terrified for her to be a human because that means she’s vulnerable. Vulnerable like me.”

Derek growls softly, and Stiles rubs the place behind his ears that has Derek whining low in his throat. “I know you don’t think I’m weak, and I’m not. But I also know that you still worry about me. I know that you’ll worry about me until we’re little old men, and you won’t stop worrying until we’re dead. If Evie is a werewolf, it’s a little easier for you to understand, and a little easier to sleep at night. And you’ll only have one human to constantly worry about.” Derek sighs heavily through his nose and licks Stiles’ hip.

“I worry too, you know,” he continues. “You don’t have the monopoly on worrying. I may not get all broody and grumpy, and I may not have carried them like you did, but I’m still their father.” Stiles pauses, and suddenly his scent changes, grows bitter and sour until Derek is whining quietly. “Today,” Stiles says, his voice shaky, and even with his muzzle beneath Stiles’ shirt, Derek can smell the salt of his tears. “Derek, I can’t even describe the paralyzing fear I felt when I thought something…” Derek glances up at Stiles, who’s shaking his head, tears unabashedly falling. 

Derek pulls away then and shifts. Stiles watches as fur gives way to bare skin, and when Derek is human again, Stiles crawls into his lap and wraps his arms around Derek. He buries his face into Derek’s neck and cries. Derek’s sitting bare assed on the ground with twigs and rocks digging into his skin, but he doesn’t register any of that as he presses his nose into Stiles’ hair and holds him. They’ve both cried in each other’s arms, but it’s a rare occurrence. Now, Derek doesn’t try to deter Stiles or offer words of comfort; he knows there are none. Not when it comes to the pain of realizing you can’t protect your children from everything.

“It was the worst feeling in the world,” Stiles cries into Derek’s shoulder. “I’ve never been so scared in my entire life. I couldn’t even…just the thought…even now, that he’s okay, I just keep…” Stiles hiccups and Derek brushes a kiss against his temple. Stiles finally lifts his head, and Derek wipes away his tears with his thumbs, his own eyes damp. He can’t stand to see Stiles in pain like this. Stiles looks directly at him, and it’s like his gaze reaches past all of Derek’s barriers and exposes him raw. “I know what it’s like, Derek. And I don’t want to feel that way again, and I sure as hell don’t want to feel that way alone again.” He leans close and presses his lips to Derek’s briefly. “You’re not alone, Derek. Even if I don’t get it completely, I am here for you. For better or worse, remember?”

“It’s – “ Derek pauses, his voice rough and he swallows, starts again. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“Maybe for you, but that’s why you have me. I have words when you don’t.” Stiles gives him a small smile, the tear tracks drying on his face though his eyes are still watery. “Either Evie is a werewolf or she isn’t. No amount of brooding is going to change it.”

Derek cracks a little, and he looks at Stiles pitifully. “She’s my little girl,” he says. “I…” Derek shakes his head, his own tears threatening to spill. 

“She’s my little girl, too,” Stiles says. “I’m just as scared for her. And Patrick. Probably more so for him, because despite being a werewolf, he inherited my coordination.” Derek rolls his eyes, but Stiles’ joke lessens the knot in his chest. “Why the disappearing wolf act tonight?” Stiles’ fingers are rubbing light circles into the muscles of Derek’s neck. “I thought we were okay, you know, with the super hot animal make up sex.”

“Rough day,” Derek replies.

“Please stop shutting me out,” Stiles sighs. “I feel like a broken record, but I can’t handle this again. If you regress into old, growly Derek, I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

“You fell in love with me when I was growly and brooding,” Derek points out.

“Yes, I did,” Stiles nods. “But I like who we are now. We talk, we share, we’re open, we’re a team.”

Derek wraps his arms around Stiles tighter, holding him with his nose buried in Stiles’ hair. Stiles just runs his hands along the muscles in Derek’s back as Derek works through things in his mind. It’s hard to explain everything to Stiles; like he said, Derek lacks the words. It’s part instinct, as an Alpha, as a father, as the one who carried the cubs. There’s also the normal worry that comes with being a parent. But there’s also that, as Stiles called it, crippling worry that Derek has never truly gotten over. He’s better, he enjoys his own family and doesn’t let the paranoia that they will be ripped away from him dictate his life, but it’s still there, thrumming just beneath the surface. 

“I just want her to be safe,” Derek finally whispers. “I know how to keep her safe if she’s a werewolf.”

“Hey,” Stiles says, tugging on Derek’s hair until he looks him in the eyes. “You will keep her safe no matter what she is. _We_ will keep her safe. Trust yourself, and trust me. And trust the Pack. No one is going to let anything happen to our daughter.”

Derek nods. Evie will be okay. Even if she is human, his little girl will be okay.

“It’s going to take you a few days to work through this, isn’t it?” Stiles asks. Derek glances away sheepishly, but Stiles just kisses the flush on his cheeks. “I love you. And I’m here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Derek turns back to Stiles and runs his fingers through Stiles’ messy hair. “I am so lucky to have you.”

Stiles slaps Derek’s shoulder. “Damn right.” 

Derek rolls his eyes, but doesn’t hide his smile.

*

Derek doesn’t sleep, not really. He dozes, but after he wakes up for the fifth time, he just holds Stiles and listens to his even breathing as he sleeps. Sometimes his feelings for Stiles overwhelm him, and it’s almost too much for him as Stiles’ hand rests on Derek’s hip, his body moving like a magnet drawn to Derek even in his sleep. It’s not the first night Derek has stayed awake watching Stiles sleep, trying to convince himself that this was his life, that Stiles and the two cubs sleeping down the hall were all real and not a delusion.

He hears Evie wake and start whining before she has a chance to switch into a full wail, so he carefully slips out of bed without disturbing Stiles and pads down the hall. Evie is sitting up, one hand on the slats of her crib, her face scrunched in dismay. A careful inhale lets Derek know she needs changing, so he lifts her from the crib and carries her over to the changing table, murmuring soft nonsense to her all the while.

After she’s wearing a clean diaper, Derek carries her over to the rocking chair by the window. The moon is half full, Derek knows this even though he can’t see it through the trees. He’s not looking forward to the full moon if the last few days are anything to go by. He’s had rough, instinctual full moons in the past and he doesn’t want to relive those (more than that, he’d really like it if he didn’t have to sleep on the couch, or if Stiles didn’t have to sleep at Scott’s). He sighs and cradles Evie in his arms, who’s still fussing. He nuzzles her face and peppers kisses over her cheeks, forehead, dark curls. That seems to calm her some, but she’s still babbling unhappily. She slaps his bare chest and yanks a handful of chest hair that has him hissing in pain.

Derek stands and walks her around the nursery, bouncing her lightly as he quietly sings a song he remembers his mother singing to Cora. Evie stops fussing and looks at Derek with her large amber eyes, and he’s suddenly hit with that same fierce protectiveness that he felt earlier today. The weight of his responsibility for Patrick and Evie, the knowledge that he’s all that stands between every horrible thing in the world and his children and Stiles, makes him dizzy. Just the thought of someone touching the three of them is enough to have Derek breaking out in a sweat, right there in the middle of the nursery.

It’s not until Evie grins and pats Derek’s cheek, talking happy gibberish, that he realizes he’s wolfed into his beta form. It makes Evie happy, though, so Derek rumbles low in his chest as he scents her. She licks his nose as she pokes at his wrinkled forehead, and there’s a part of him that needs this, needs this connection with his cub. 

He’s so overcome with emotion as Evie tugs on his chops that he has to grip the crib to keep from toppling over.

Evie starts whining again when Derek’s face returns to normal, but he quiets her with soothing words as he sits back into the rocker. He finds a pacifier on the table beside him and gives it to her, and her eyes automatically start to droop as soon as she has it in her mouth.

Derek sings to her well after she’s asleep, his foot pushing them in a constant, steady rhythm. He drags his eyes over her face, taking note of small changes that are a result of her growing constantly. It seems like only yesterday she was a tiny thing in his arms with a single curly cue atop her head. Gently, he lifts her hand and examines fingers that immediately curl around his much larger one as she sleeps. He memorizes her toes next, lightly rubbing his thumb against each digit.

“So beautiful.” 

Derek looks up, startled. Stiles is leaning against the doorframe in his underwear, hair mussed and eyes heavy from sleep. He’s got a lazy smile on his face as he watches them. Derek had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard Stiles come down the hall.

“Huh?” Derek responds oh-so-eloquently. That just makes Stiles smile more. He pushes off the doorjamb and enters the room silently. He waves his hand around at the scene before him.

“You and Evie. You holding her as she sleeps, looking at her like she’s the most precious thing in the world…you’re both so beautiful.” He stops beside the rocking chair and curls a hand around the nape of Derek’s neck. Derek leans into the touch, and Stiles’ thumb starts rubbing soothing strokes into the tight muscles. “You okay?”

Derek nods and gazes down at the sleeping cub in his arms. The pacifier has fallen from her lips since her mouth has opened in sleep, and Derek marvels at how much she looks like Stiles right now. “I’m okay.” When Derek drags his eyes away from Evie to look at Stiles, he’s caught off-guard by the sad, nearly pained expression on Stiles’ face. Instinctually, he pushes into Stiles’ hand.

“It’s never going to get easier,” Stiles whispers, his eyes trained on Evie. “No matter if they’re werewolves, humans, one or twenty one, living with us or married with their own families. I think there’s always going to be this constant need to protect, this constant fear for them. We’ll never stop worrying.” Derek pushes some of Evie’s hair back from her forehead, curls a lock around his finger. “Makes me appreciate what I put my dad through in high school a little more.” The sour scent drifts from Stiles again, and Derek glances up at him. “He had to do it alone. I can’t even imagine…I couldn’t do any of this without you. I don’t know how he did it.”

Derek turns his head so he can kiss the inside of Stiles’ arm before carefully standing. Evie snuffles in her sleep, her hand splayed against Derek’s chest. Stiles stands across from him and runs a hand along Evie’s arm. Something in Derek expands when she seems to sense Stiles’ touch and turns her face to him in her sleep. His mouth hangs open in surprise as he watches.

“Half werewolf,” Stiles whispers, and Derek lifts his eyes. “Werewolf or human, she’s still half you and half me.”

Derek smiles, and Stiles leans down to brush a kiss across Evie’s forehead. Derek also kisses her softly, his senses filling with her smell and sounds. Then, he walks over to the crib and lays her down gently. Stiles reaches around him to tug the blanket over her and place her glowworm beside her. After he retracts his hand, he hooks his chin on Derek’s shoulder.

“She’s pretty neat, huh?” 

“Yep.”

“Our son is pretty neat, too.”

“Yep.”

“Still hard to believe sometimes we made such neat little beings.” Derek grabs Stiles’ hand and pulls his arm around his waist. 

“I don’t know how he did it either,” Derek says after a few minutes.

“Huh?”

“Your dad,” Derek responds. 

“Oh.” Stiles sighs, and Derek squeezes his hand. “I don’t ever want to go through that. I don’t think I could live if something happened to you.”

“You would, just like he did,” Derek says. “You kept him going, the kids would keep you going.”

“What about you?” Stiles murmurs against his ear. Derek’s blood turns cold just at the thought of something happening to Stiles. Stiles kisses his neck. “That’s what I thought.” He wraps the other arm around Derek’s waist, and he relaxes even though he hadn’t realized he’d tensed up.

“I sometimes think my parents were lucky,” Derek states slowly. “They died together. It’s nearly impossible for a wolf to live without their mate.”

Stiles squeezes Derek around the middle. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere for a long time. I fully expect to live until I can barely walk, pee when I laugh, and can’t get it up.”

“Oh, you’d be able to get it up,” Derek laughs quietly, spinning in Stiles’ arms. “I don’t think that’s something you’ll have to worry about.”

“Oh god, let’s hope so. My eyesight can go, I’ll eat nothing but mush, I’ll even wear adult diapers, but if I lose the ability to have sex, I think I’d rather be dead.” Derek rolls his eyes, but smiles as he kisses Stiles.

After they leave Evie’s room, they peek into Patrick’s room to check on him. He’s kicked his comforter off the bed, so they tiptoe inside and cover him back up. Derek finds his stuffed penguin on the floor and lays it beside him as he brushes a hand over his dark hair and nuzzles his cheek gently. Patrick growls quietly in his sleep, and Derek growls happily in response. He kisses Patrick, and Stiles kisses his other cheek. 

When they’re back in their bed, Stiles lies behind Derek and holds him. He presses light kisses to Derek’s shoulders, and Derek closes his eyes as he revels in the feel of Stiles’ lips, the warmth of his chest against his back, the perfect way Stiles’ thighs fit behind his own.

It doesn’t take long before Derek finally drifts off.

*

“What is this Aunt Cora?” Patrick asks, pointing to a flower.

“A marigold.”

“What is this?”

“An oak.”

“What is this?”

“Patrick,” Derek chastises gently. “You know what all these plants are.”

“Because DD is the plant man,” Patrick tells Cora.

“Is he now?” Cora asks. They’re walking through the woods, Patrick holding on to Cora’s hand while she carries Evie in the other arm. When Derek had tried to take his hand, Patrick had thrown a fit until Cora took it instead. He refused to walk with anyone else, and Evie was not having her brother get all of Cora’s attention, so she had stood at Cora’s feet with her arms outstretched babbling unhappily until Cora picked her up. Cora had smiled at Derek as they started towards the forest, Patrick telling her all about their “Wolfie Path.” Derek could feel her happiness so strongly that it was difficult to keep the smile off his face.

“Daddy is Wolf Man and DD is plant man. They’re like super heroes!” Cora snorts, and Derek glares at the back of her head.

Soon, Evie starts squirming in Cora’s arm, so she puts her onto the ground. Evie takes off into the underbrush, and Patrick suddenly notices a squirrel and darts off after it. Cora just stands watching them, slack jawed.

“Did I just inadvertently lose your cubs?” Cora asks.

“Eh, they’re fine,” Derek responds. Evie’s so close he can get to her in a second, and Patrick is a few feet ahead still chasing squirrels where Derek can see his every move. Derek drops onto the ground and leans back on his hands, enjoying the afternoon with his family. 

He and Cora are discussing her latest on and off again boyfriend when Derek suddenly feels the skin at the back of his neck prickle. He sits up suddenly, his eyes bleeding red as he takes note of the kids’ positions before scanning the surroundings. 

“What is it?” Cora asks, immediately on alert and wolfed out.

“Calmly go get Patrick,” Derek says, voice barely audible. Cora nods and carefully makes her way towards Patrick while Derek goes to Evie. Evie is trying to catch butterflies with her fists and starts crying the moment Derek picks her up and takes her away from them. Derek doesn’t try to ssh her, just clings to her as Cora joins him with Patrick in her arms. 

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” Patrick asks, wolfed out because of Derek and Cora.

Derek doesn’t respond, but glances around the woods. He can hear the wheezing, the crunch of leaves beneath footsteps. It’s the same creature from before, the one he’d smelled when he’d been at the park with the kids that day. 

It’s here in the woods with them. With his cubs.

Derek hands Evie to Cora. “Walk,” he instructs. Evie immediately starts wailing, holding her hands out for Derek, and Patrick starts crying and growling simultaneously. Derek follows behind Cora, focusing on the movement of the wolf in the woods. 

He knows it’s a wolf now, but something is wrong with it. Derek’s not sure what, and he doesn’t dwell on it. He doesn’t care; what he cares about is that it’s threatening his family.

They make it about a quarter of mile before the wolf changes its pattern. The kids have quieted to cranky sniffles and whining, and Cora is gripping them tightly. The wolf is moving closer to them while Derek tries to decide whether he wants to shift fully or not. Before he can make the decision, though, the wolf charges out of the woods, right at Cora and the kids.

Derek doesn’t think; he reacts on pure instinct. It’s easy for him to intercept the wolf and tackle him to the ground in a flurry of teeth and claws.

“DADDY!” Patrick screams. His voice is filled with terror, but Derek doesn’t let himself get distracted. He can sense that the kids are fine, just scared. “AUNT CORA, LET ME GO. DADDY NEEDS MY HELP!”

The wolf is weak and goes down easily. Derek knocks it out, and raises his hand to rip his throat out when he hears Patrick scream, “DADDY IS HURT, _LET ME GO!_ ”

Derek hesitates. He can’t kill this wolf in front of his kids, can’t let them witness more than they already have. The quick struggle is more than he ever wanted them to see. He looks between the unconscious wolf and Cora. Patrick has scratched her arms to hell, blood remaining where the shallow cuts have already healed. 

Derek leaves the wolf, goes over to Cora, and takes Patrick from her. “DADDY!” Patrick yells, arms around Derek’s neck, choking him despite his small size. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, buddy.” Derek nuzzles Patrick’s face, and Patrick nuzzles him right back. “Everything is okay.”

“But that wolfie. You fought.” Patrick looks over Derek’s shoulder, and Derek turns in an attempt to keep Patrick from looking at him. 

“It’s okay. Let’s go home.”

“But you got a boo-boo,” Patrick says, poking a gash on Derek’s arm that’s taking longer to heal. 

“I’ll let you patch me up when we get home, how’s that sound?”

“Okay,” he says, though he looks back towards the wolf on the ground. “Is the wolfie okay?”

“Sure, he’s just lying there. He’ll be fine.” 

“He has a boo-boo, too!”

“Maybe.” Derek kisses Patrick’s hair and then takes Evie in his other arm. Her face is red from crying, and she clutches Derek’s shirt as soon as she’s near him.

“What are you going to do about him?” Cora asks.

“Take my phone out of my pocket, get Scott’s number and call him,” Derek tells her. “Tell him what happened, stay here until he gets here. Tell him to make the decision. The wolf is weak, so if he wakes up, you can easily overtake him.” Derek readjusts the kids in his arms. “I’ve got to the get them home. I couldn’t let them see...what needs to happen to him.”

Cora nods, pulls Derek’s phone out of his jeans pocket, and finds Scott’s number. As soon as Scott’s on the line, Derek takes off into a jog towards the house, clutching the kids to him.

*

Derek hisses, because despite his supernatural healing ability, peroxide stings like a bitch. “It’s okay, I make the boo boo better,” Patrick says. They’re sitting on the bathroom tile, Patrick between Derek’s legs where he’s dabbing cotton balls over the dried blood on Derek’s arms and chest. Evie’s in the dry tub, playing with some of her Little People cars that make sounds as they roll across the bottom.

“It’s just a little tender,” Derek says, ruffling Patrick’s hair. 

“Be brave!” he says, pouring more than is necessary on the cotton ball. There’s a tiny pool of peroxide on the floor beneath Patrick’s knee. “That’s what you and DD say. Specially when Mr. DeeTee has to give me a shot.”

“You are brave when Deaton gives you a shot,” Derek says. “DD’s the one who needs to be brave when you get a shot.” 

Patrick giggles. “DD hates needles.”

“DD definitely hates needles. But he hates having to watch you get a shot worse than the needles,” Derek says. Patrick turns his face up to Derek. 

“DD cried last time.”

Derek laughs. “Yes, DD cried.”

“It was funny,” Patrick giggles, wiping peroxide over the gash on Derek’s arm that’s still not healed. 

“You have your father’s sense of humor,” Derek drawls, and Patrick laughs again.

“Why is it not getting better?” Patrick asks, poking at the gash. “Wolfies get better. No boo boos.”

“Sometimes, the boo boos take longer to heal,” Derek says, grabbing Patrick around the middle and hauling him onto his lap. “I’ll be fine. I just need some rest.”

“And DD,” Patrick says. When Derek’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, Patrick elaborates. “DD kiss it and make it better. DD always kiss my boo boos and make it better. And you are always happy when DD kisses you.”

“That I am, kiddo,” Derek smiles. 

“Because you love DD,” Patrick says. 

Derek chuckles. “Very much. And I love you very much, and Evie very much.”

“I love you, too, Daddy.” Patrick wraps his arms around Derek’s neck and kisses him briefly on the lips before burying his face into his shoulder. 

*

Stiles is knee deep in a bog with Linda when he gets a phone call. He ignores it the first three times it rings, but on the fourth consecutive time he figures he might need to answer it. “Derek, babe, it’s not really a good time – “

“Stiles, it’s Cora.”

Every muscle in Stiles’ body draws taut, and a wave of panic blindsides him. “What’s wrong?” he manages, and that’s only because Linda is beside him, rubbing soothing circles on his back and stroking his hair in her matronly way. 

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Where’s Derek? Where are my kids?” Stiles asks, voice edging towards hysterical.

“They’re at home. We were attacked by an Omega.”

“WHAT?” Stiles yells. 

“Everyone is fine. Derek took it down easily. It’s weak, probably because it’s starving or sick. He took the kids home, and I’m just waiting by the Omega for Scott to get here and finish taking care of it.”

“Why didn’t Derek do it?”

“Because Patrick was watching.”

“Oh.” The panic dissipates, leaving Stiles feeling drained and exhausted. And when Cora’s words settle, he feels sick to his stomach.

“I just thought you’d want to know, and since Derek gave me his phone, I knew he wouldn’t have a way to call you just yet.”

“Yeah, thanks Cora.”

“Hey, Stiles,” she says softly. “They’re fine. We’re all fine.”

“Yeah, I know.” Stiles ends the call and just stares at the phone for a moment. 

“I can finish up here,” Linda says, and Stiles jumps at the sound of her voice. He’d forgotten she was there. “Go home to your Pack. You look like you need them.”

“Thanks,” Stiles says, surprising himself when he pulls her in for a hug. She lets out a startled noise but holds him. It makes him miss his mother, but he pushes those thoughts aside. “Leave the samples for me, and I’ll do all the paperwork. It’s the least I can do.”

Stiles sludges his way out of the bog, removes his waders, and then rushes to his car. As soon as he’s on the road, he calls his dad.

“Hey Stiles,” the sheriff answers.

“How do you do it?” Stiles blurts.

“Do what?”

“Everything. Life. A family. Kids.”

“What happened?”

“Derek, Cora, and the kids were attacked by an Omega. They’re fine, but this stuff isn’t supposed to happen now. Things are good now. Our territory has two Alphas, a small but strong Pack, two hunters, a retired sheriff, and the new sheriff. And me! We’re safe.”

“Oh, kiddo,” the sheriff says, voice full of understanding. 

“Beacon Hills is supposed to be safe. My kids are supposed to be safe.”

“They are safe, Stiles. But you can’t protect them from everything, no matter how much you want to. You just take it one day at a time. When things happen, you deal and adapt.”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this dad stuff,” Stiles admits. “I’m not home enough, I don’t even know my children. Did you know Patrick’s favorite show is _Bubble Guppies_? I didn’t.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” the sheriff says. “This right here, this phone call? All the evidence you need that you’re a great father. Let me ask you a question. Was I a good father?”

“That’s the dumbest question you’ve ever asked me.”

“Was I?”

“Of course.”

“Was I always there?” Stiles doesn’t answer right away. “That’s what I thought. I wasn’t. I made a lot of mistakes, kiddo. Especially after your mom died.”

“Dad, that wasn’t – “

“It was. You were always my number one priority, and I slipped more times than I should have. My job didn’t help. You had been running around with werewolves for almost a year before I found out. What kind of dad did you think that made me feel like?”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Stiles says.

“The point I’m trying to make, Stiles, is that you will make mistakes, and you will worry, and freak out, and cry, and get angry, and be too overprotective and sometimes not enough, but you love those kids more than anything, and that’s what matters.”

“I think I need a vacation,” Stiles says with a sigh.

“You’ll get one in about seventeen years, maybe.”

“At least I’ll have time to plan,” Stiles laughs.

“Need me to come over?”

“If you bring dinner.”

“I’ll see you at seven.”

“Love you, Dad.”

“Love you, too.”

Stiles chews his lips raw and nervously taps the steering wheel the rest of the drive. The one thing he and Derek never wanted to expose their kids to was the same kind of horrors they’d experienced as teenagers. Beacon Hills was no longer cursed by the Nemeton, the Pack had solidified its dominance, and things had been peaceful for years. 

Stiles couldn’t go through this stuff again. Not when he had his own kids to worry about in addition to just his friends. He saw too many people he’d loved die back then; the Pack had experienced enough loss to last multiple lifetimes. The Pack cubs didn’t need to know any of that; they deserved nothing but love and happiness.

By the time he pulls the SUV to a stop in the driveway, he’s eerily calm. He walks inside the house, following Evie’s squeals and Patrick’s laughs. They’re in the living room, playing with a playset while Derek is stretched on the couch with his eyes closed. The moment Stiles steps into the room, Derek opens his eyes and sits up, immediately concerned.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asks.

“I should be asking you that,” Stiles replies, coming over and immediately straddling Derek’s lap. “Cora called.”

“We’re fine.”

“I know.” Stiles kisses Derek and cups his cheek. “I know.”

“Daddy has a boo-boo,” Patrick says. Stiles turns around and Patrick nods as he moves a little fire truck over a bridge. “The mean wolfie gave it to him. But I helped his boo-boo.”

“He did help. He took care of all my boo-boos.” Derek smiles, and shows Stiles his arm which is almost healed. Stiles drags his fingers across the broken flesh with a frown. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“You need to kiss it, DD,” Patrick says. “Make it better. Daddy just needed you to make him better. Me to fix the boo-boos, you to kiss the boo-boos.”

Stiles smiles at Derek. “Need me to kiss your boo-boo?”

“I need you to kiss everything.”

“Oh really?” Stiles murmurs against Derek’s mouth, kissing him deeply before bringing Derek’s arm to his mouth. Stiles brushes his lips against the gash lightly. 

“DD kisses are the best,” Patrick says behind them.

“Da-da-da,” Evie babbles as she puts a police cruiser in her mouth.

“No, Evie! Don’t eat it!” Patrick goes to grab it from her, but Evie won’t let go. “Give it to me. It’s mine!”

“Share!” Derek yells.

“But she’s getting icky girl germs all over it with her baby spit.”

Stiles sighs and drops his forehead against Derek’s shoulder. Derek says, “Patrick, let it go. She’s fine.”

Patrick gets up and stomps towards his playroom. “I don’t want to play with baby spit.” Sounds of toyboxes and drawers being opened float from the play room. Evie takes the fire truck and tries to fit it into her mouth with the police cruiser before pushing it across the road of the small town.

*

Stiles opens the door and is surprised to see Allison and her kids on the other side. “Hi,” he greets, leaning forward to place a kiss on her cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“Scott called and said he was on his way after dealing with the Omega, and he said his mom and the sheriff were coming for dinner. I didn’t even know we were having a Pack dinner, but,” Allison shifts around the huge bag on her shoulder and holds fast to Kyle’s hand, who’s trying to break away to go chase something in the woods. She lifts her free hand, where she’s holding a few plastic bags. “I picked up cookies and a ten rotisserie chickens at the supermarket.”

“I can’t believe they had ten rotisserie chickens,” Stiles replies, stepping aside to let them into the house.

“I called Sarah, and I think she’s going by to pick up a bucket of fried chicken.”

“I think that’s enough food. I mean, Dad said he’s bringing dinner.”

“Remember the last time we ran out of food?” Allison asks. She drops her shoulder bag to the floor as the kids run off towards the playroom. 

“Scott and Isaac didn’t speak for three days,” Stiles remembers with a chuckle. 

“Hey Allison.” Derek gives her a confused smile when he comes downstairs. 

He hugs her, and Allison says, “There are more chickens in the car. Can you grab them?”

Derek brings in the rest of the food, and then joins Allison and Stiles into the living room. Scott and Cora arrive a few minutes later. Scott fist bumps Stiles as he passes and kisses Allison when he sits beside her while Cora sits on the other side of Derek.

“What happened with the Omega?” Derek asks.

“Cora and I called Parrish while we took it to Deaton’s. Deaton said it was sick, which is why the scent smelled so wrong. Parrish ran his prints. At one point, he was part of a Pack out of Nevada, so I contacted them and told them what happened. They’ll be here tomorrow afternoon to pick it up.” Derek nods, and Scott asks, “Why didn’t you kill it?”

Derek’s eyes automatically move towards the play room. Loud talking, laughing, and other myriad sounds drift from the open door. “Patrick was watching me.”

Scott nods. “Maybe they can get it help. Deaton said he was going to run some tests to determine the cause of the sickness.”

“Thanks,” Derek states. He ruffles Cora’s hair as he looks at Scott. Scott smiles and the conversation turns to lighter topics.

*

Patrick has his arms and legs clamped around Cora’s leg, refusing to let go. “No!”

“Patrick,” Derek sighs. He looks over at Stiles. “Can you do something to help?”

“What do you want me to do?” Stiles exclaims. 

“I don’t know! He’s your son, get him to listen!”

“Oh, he’s _my_ son when he’s being – “

“Guys!” Cora shouts, causing them both to look at her. “Seriously not helping.” She carefully sits on the floor, bringing her eye to eye with Patrick. “I don’t want to, but unfortunately I have to go.”

“But why?” he asks, lip wibbling and eyes already tearing up. “Don’t you like us?”

“Of course I like you!” Cora says with a smile. “I love you. You’re my favoritest nephew in the world.”

“I am?” Patrick asks, loosening his grip on Cora’s leg.

Stiles leans over and whispers, “Do you think he knows that he’s – “ but shuts up when Derek glares at him.

“Of course! Come here.” Cora opens her arms and Patrick lets go of her leg so she can pull him into her lap. “I have to go away for a little while, but I’ll come back soon, I promise.”

“But I thought wolfie Packs lived together. You can have a house in the backyard! Like Uncle Isaac and Uncle Scott! Daddy and DD won’t mind. I’d let Evie live in my backyard.”

Cora kisses his cheek. “Sometimes, Pack members go other places. But I will always be Pack because I’m your daddy’s sister. And that means I’ll come back”

“Pinky promise?” 

Cora hooks her pinky to Patrick’s. “Pinky promise.” Patrick throws his arms around her neck and nuzzles his face into her neck. She holds him tightly and places a kiss on his messy dark hair. “When I come back, I’ll bring you a present from where I’m going.”

“A pressie for me?” His eyes are wide as he stares at her.

“Just for you.” She rubs her nose against his, gives him another kiss, and then lets him go. He runs over to Stiles and buries his face into the back of Stiles’ leg. Stiles is pretty sure he’s crying, so he just lets him. 

“Where are you off to now?” Stiles asks. 

“Thailand. I’ve never been, and Justin is meeting me there, so.” Cora shrugs. 

“Such a fabulous life. Hopping a plane to an exotic place to meet this week’s beau.” Stiles rolls his eyes before giving Cora a big hug. 

“Take care of Derek,” she whispers.

“Always do.” He gives her a kiss before she steps over to Derek.

Cora places her hands against Derek’s chest. “You okay? You know, with the whole Evie stuff?”

Derek nods. “I’ll be fine.”

“She’s amazing, Derek. And she’s one of the happiest babies I’ve ever seen, so you’ve got to be doing something right. I mean, wolves are weird. There’s no set time for powers to manifest, and there’s no telling why she’s not talking. Maybe she just doesn’t feel like it,” she jokes. Then she looks between the two of them. “You two okay? Because I don’t want to have to cut my trip to Thailand short because I have to come back and kick one or both of your asses.”

Derek grunts. “We’ll be fine. If we haven’t divorced yet, I think we’re okay.”

Cora frowns. “I’m not going to stop worrying until you’ve hit at least your tenth anniversary, and then I might hold out til fifteen or twenty before giving you the okay.”

“Shut up.”

“I love you.” She hugs him tightly. Stiles smiles to himself as he watches Derek cling to her just as tight. 

“Love you, too. Be careful, okay? I read an article about Thailand that said – “

Cora places her fingers over Derek’s mouth. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“E-mail more,” he says, giving her a pointed look, which makes her roll her eyes.

“Hypocrite? E-mail goes both ways.” He pinches her and she punches his arm. “I know you worry, so I’ll try and be better.” She reaches out and grabs Stiles’ hand. “You two be careful today with that other Pack, okay? Let me know how it goes.”

“We will.”

Cora glances down when Patrick peeks out from behind Stiles’ leg. “One more hug?” she asks, bending down to fold him into her arms. She kisses his tear-stained face, and then Stiles lifts Patrick while Derek carries her bags to her rental car. 

Patrick snuffles into Stiles’ neck. “Hey, buddy. Don’t be sad. She’ll visit you again real soon.”

“I love Aunt Cora,” he whispers, then wipes his runny nose on Stiles’ shoulder.

“I do, too.” Stiles turns his face and kisses Patrick’s cheek. “Wanna snack?”

“Can I have ice cream?” Patrick asks, and Stiles can immediately tell he’s trying to use the situation to manipulate him. And, well, it works. What can Stiles say? He’s weak.

“Sure buddy.” 

Stiles is sharing a bowl of strawberry ice cream with Patrick when Derek comes into the kitchen carrying Evie. He’s putting her in her jacket.

“Get Patrick ready. We’re going to see Deaton.”

“Why?” Stiles asks, not moving. 

Derek shoots Stiles a look, which Stiles ignores. “Cora said something about Evie that I want to ask Deaton about.”

“Now?” Stiles asks in disbelief. “That other Pack will be here in a few hours.”

“We can also check on the Omega while we’re there,” Derek states. “Now, come on.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and goes to get his and Patrick’s jackets and shoes while Derek watches Patrick. “You know, if it’s got a Pack, it’s not really an Omega, is it?”

“Something’s not right,” Derek responds. “Wolves with Packs don’t attack other Packs unprovoked. It could have be kicked out or left.”

Stiles returns, his arms full of shoes and jackets. Derek takes Patrick’s shoes and puts them on his wiggling feet while Patrick finishes his ice cream. When they’re all finished, and Stiles has cleaned Patrick’s sticky hands and face with a baby wipe, they head for Deaton’s.

*

“Mr. DeeTee!” Patrick exclaims when they walk into the back of the clinic. He runs over and hugs Deaton’s leg.

“Hello Patrick,” Deaton says with a smile. “Derek, Stiles. I thought Scott was picking up the Omega later today.”

“He is, I need you to take a look at Evie,” Derek replies.

“Patrick, baby, come here and let Daddy talk to Mr. Deaton,” Stiles says, crouching down and pulling Patrick’s arms from Deaton’s leg. 

“Is everything okay?” Deaton asks, studying Evie carefully. Evie tries to shove her entire fist into her mouth, and when it doesn’t fit, she starts crying but ends up gnawing on the heel of her hand. “She had a check up recently, and everything was fine.”

“Is it possible there’s a reason Evie’s not talking?” Derek asks. He’s standing by the examination table, Evie now slapping the metal and giggling. 

“Of course there’s a reason. There’s a reason everyone does everything,” Deaton states. Derek glares at him. “But I believe you mean something more.”

“Is there a werewolf reason, or a supernatural reason, that she’s not talking?” Derek asks. “You’ve already checked her out once and said she was developmentally okay, but what if it’s something else?”

Deaton bends down so he’s face to face with Evie. Evie takes her hand from her mouth and squeals. She reaches forward, grabs Deaton’s goatee, and tugs on it, gurgling in happiness.

“Evie, honey, no,” Derek says in exasperation, grabbing her hands to keep them away from Deaton’s face.

Deaton smiles. “It’s fine. I assume she does the same with you in your beta form?” Derek nods. “Let me see.” Derek raises his eyebrows in question, but does as asked. He shifts, and Evie shrieks, immediately pushing herself up on her knees so she can pull at his chops. Then, she grabs the pointed tip of his ear and starts chewing on it.

Deaton hums and nods his head. “Mind if I spend a few minutes with Evangeline? There are a few tests I would like to perform.” Derek nods, and Deaton says, “You can check on the Omega if you’d like. He is resting in a room down the hall.”

While Deaton works with Evie, Derek visits the Omega and Stiles sits in the waiting room with Patrick, flipping through old _Highlights_ magazines.

“Can you find the palm tree?” Stiles asks, as they look at a hidden pictures page.

Patrick turns his face up to Stiles and asks, “What’s a palm tree?” 

Stiles shakes his head. “We clearly need to take you to the beach, kiddo.”

“I want to go to the beach and swim in the ocean with the wolfie fish!”

“Wolfie fish?” Stiles laughs.

Patrick nods his head, his finger tracing over the picture in the magazine. “The wolfie fish who live with the mermaids from _Bubble Guppies_. They are friends with Bubble Puppy!”

“They are?”

Patrick turns to Stiles excitedly, magazine forgotten. “Yes, the wolfie fish can swim underwater all day because they’re special. They’re kinda like merpeople except they have wolfie heads instead of people heads!”

“You should draw me a picture,” Stiles suggests.

“Can I?”

Stiles opens up the diaper bag and pulls out a notepad and crayons. “Have at it.”

Patrick’s sitting on the floor drawing as Stiles completes the puzzle in the _Highlights_ when Derek enters the waiting room. He sits on the edge of the couch beside Stiles, and Stiles rubs his hand along Derek’s thigh without taking his eyes from the magazine.

“What is he drawing?” Derek asks.

“Wolfie fish!” Patrick explains.

“Is that a tail?” Derek asks, leaning forward.

“It’s you. You have a tail.” Patrick points to the black scribbles with red dots near the top. “That’s Alpha Daddy, and that’s DD.” Stiles tosses the magazine aside to see his merman portrait. It’s a stick person with brown scribble hair an inch to the right of the head and a green box beneath it that Stiles thinks might be the tail. Derek’s box tail is red like his eyes. 

“Hey! I’m a mermaid!” Stiles exclaims. He ruffles Patrick’s hair.

Patrick giggles. “You’re not a mermaid cause you’re not a girl, DD. Mermaids have purple hair!”

Stiles turns to Derek. “How would I look with purple hair? Cause I’ve been thinking of a change.” Derek frowns, and Stiles squeezes his thigh. “How was the Omega?”

“Still out.”

Derek reads on his phone, Patrick continues drawing, and Stiles picks the magazine back up while they wait on Deaton to finish with Evie. About fifteen minutes later, Deaton calls them back into the room. He’s standing by the examination table and Evie is halfway finished with taking off her left shoe. Her right one is already on the floor. Stiles picks it up but doesn’t try to stop her from taking off the other one.

“Well?” Derek asks. 

“Evangeline is perfectly healthy in every way,” Deaton says. “Despite her late speech development, she understands and reacts to external stimuli and understands speech in the way that is appropriate for her age. Since werewolves are supernatural beings, their development is not always as regular as a humans. Werewolves can be born, or turned by bites and scratches. They also can be born from pure werewolf unions, or as in your case, wolf-human ones.”

“Even I know all of this,” Stiles says.

“The point, Stiles, is that there are no typical werewolf children. Powers manifest at different times, and all cubs respond in different ways. I believe the reason Evangeline is not speaking is because she is in an instinctual developmental phase.” 

Stiles glances at Derek to see if he understands, but Derek looks as confused as he does. “I don’t understand,” Stiles says when Derek doesn’t speak.

“She strongly responds to Derek’s wolf form, correct?” Deaton asks.

“The other night she cried when I shifted back to human,” Derek states.

“She’s also been scent marking,” Stiles adds. “Licking people, nuzzling, even in sleep.”

“Does that mean she’s a wolf?” Derek asks, his voice full of hope. Stiles reaches out, grabs his hand, and squeezes it.

Deaton shakes his head, and Derek’s shoulders slump slightly. “Not necessarily. Evangeline and Patrick are oddities, even in the werewolf community, because of the circumstances of their birth.”

“You’re saying this is my fault?” Derek snaps. And _whoa_ , that came out of nowhere.

“Derek!” Stiles hisses. “What the fuck?”

“He’s implying the reason Evie’s like she is is because I carried her!” Derek growls.

“That’s not what he’s saying, Derek!” Stiles exclaims. “You have _seriously_ got to get over this!”

Deaton clears his throat, and they both turn to him.

“As I was saying, because they were carried by a male Beta-born-turned-Alpha werewolf, they are not typical. Which is neither your fault, Derek, nor a problem. But that means she will go through phases human children or even more traditional werewolf children may not, or go through them differently.”

“Not surprising,” Stiles says. “Dad says I went through a phase where I would only speak in questions, and apparently, I walked around for a few months with my hand down my pants unless they constantly kept me from it.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t know that. But it doesn’t surprise me.”

“Derek and Laura both refused to wear clothes for years, and when Derek was a toddler, he would only fall asleep outside,” Deaton says.

“I don’t remember that,” Derek says.

Deaton smiles. “Your father set up a hammock in the backyard and used to get in it every night with you until you fell asleep and then bring you inside.”

Stiles watches Derek face, and a mixture of pain and happiness flickers across it. Stiles squeezes his hand again.

“I believe Evangeline doesn’t feel the need to speak. As you are aware, werewolves are highly instinctual creatures, able to communicate sometimes through only emotions, scents, and visual cues. I believe this is why she doesn’t speak. She understands both your words and moods, and other than her gibberish, she communicates with you through touches, emotions, and physical actions.”

Derek and Stiles look at Evie, who has now peeled off one of her socks and is chewing on her toes. “I never thought of that,” Derek says.

“It is only a hypothesis,” Deaton says, “but one I believe the evidence supports. Regardless, your daughter is healthy, and I believe she will begin to speak when she feels ready.”

*

Derek, Stiles, Scott, and Allison meet the Nevada Pack in the middle of the Preserve, while Isaac and Sarah remain behind at Scott’s house with the children. Derek suggested Stiles and Allison accompany them instead of Isaac to set a precedent, meet the Pack with both Alphas and their mates.

Derek stands beside Scott, while Stiles and Allison stand behind them. Allison has knives hidden in her boots and up her sleeves, and Stiles has vials of mountain ash and a wolfsbane tipped dagger attached to his belt. They aren’t expecting trouble, but they also know better than to not come prepared. Scott does the talking for the Beacon Hills Pack; Derek stands beside him alert and tense. 

The representatives from the Nevada Pack seem nice enough. The Alpha is an elderly lady, strong despite her age and small stature. Three Betas accompany her: a man older than them, and a man and woman around their age. Scott and the Nevada Alpha discuss territory and other standard issues connected to this situation, and eventually turn to the Omega. Come to find out, not an Omega, just affected by the werewolf disease, which is almost like a kind of rabies. Apparently, there is a cure, and the Pack is very thankful for having their Packmate returned.

Stiles grows bored halfway through the discussion. He learned a long time ago that supernatural politics are not his thing. Not only do they not really interest him, but his attention span makes it difficult to stay focused. 

His eyes wander, and he ends up scrutinizing the other Pack closely. When his eyes get to the woman, Stiles frowns. She’s staring at Derek, a smile on her face. Her eyes keep sweeping along Derek’s form, and Stiles doesn’t have to be a werewolf to see the lust in her eyes. It doesn’t matter how long he and Derek are together – he hates it when people openly flirt with Derek. He doesn’t appreciate people ignoring his existence, or thinking so little of him that they think Derek would cheat on him.

After the official proceedings are over, Stiles moves towards Derek, but Scott grabs his arm, and he’s pulled into a discussion about medicinal herbs and the cure to the disease, which apparently is plant based. Stiles forgets his jealousy in favor of talking magical healing plants with the Alpha and one of the Betas.

When the conversation is over and Stiles shakes hands with the other Pack, he scans the area. Scott and Allison are talking to the other Beta, and then his eyes fall on Derek and the woman off to the side, talking. The woman has her hand on Derek’s arm, and she is standing just a _little_ too close to Derek for Stiles’ comfort.

“Hi,” Stiles exclaims as he walks up to them. 

“Hey,” Derek grins. “Nancy, this is my husband, Stiles.”

Stiles gives Nancy his best fake smile. “Nice to meet you, Nancy.”

“Hello,” she replies, though she looks at Stiles like a bug she’d like to squish. 

“You seemed to be having a great conversation,” Derek says, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist automatically.

“We were geeking out about plants,” Stiles says. “What were you two discussing?”

“Pack life,” Nancy responds. “I was telling Derek how much he’d love Nevada, how freeing it is to run and hunt in open spaces, with no constraints on your wolf. Nothing gives you a truer sense of your true self than running across the plains and even through the desert with other wolves.”

“They seem to do fine here in the mountains and the forests,” Stiles says.

“You wouldn’t understand. It’s an instinct impossible to explain to a human.” Stiles does not like the way she says the word human like it’s an insult.

“Stiles knows almost more about werewolves than I do,” Derek says, looking at him proudly. “He has a great understanding of me and the Pack.”

“But you have to admit, there are some things humans cannot quite know because our animal side does things we innately follow that our human side cannot not explain, but understands,” Nancy says.

“There are a few things,” Derek reluctantly admits. 

Stiles tilts his head. “That statement didn’t even make sense.”

Nancy gives him a feral, wolfish grin that makes his metaphoric hackles rise. “My point exactly.”

“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter in the long run,” Stiles says. “Your Pack does what works for them, and our Pack does what works for us.”

“Of course,” Nancy replies.

Derek and Nancy continue discussing the joys of being a werewolf, and Stiles inches closer and closer to Derek until there is literally no space between them. Nancy doesn’t seem threatened by Stiles’ presence; she ignores him, and Stiles is pretty sure that if she touches Derek one more _fucking time_ , the bitch is gonna get a face full of wolfsbane.

Finally, the Nevada Pack leaves. Stiles frowns when they say they will remain in the Beacon Hills territory for the night and travel to Nevada the next night. Stiles wants that woman gone like yesterday.

After they leave and Scott and Derek relax, Stiles turns to Derek. “What the fuck was that?”

“What do you mean?” Derek asks, confused.

“Um, guys, we’ll meet you back at the house,” Scott says, looking between them uncomfortably. “I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t be here for this.” Stiles and Derek ignore Scott and Allison’s exit as they glare at each other.

“Nancy.”

“Huh?”

“Please tell me you are not that fucking stupid. I know you’re terrible with anything flirty, but come on. I’m not a werewolf, and I could smell the lust oozing from her.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Are you seriously upset about that? She’s harmless.”

“Harmless, my ass,” Stiles snaps. “Did you see the way she just kept _touching_ you? And you didn’t say anything. Or do anything. You hate people in your personal space.”

“Stiles, people flirt with me all the time,” Derek states. “I don’t even pay any attention anymore.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Stiles exclaims. 

“What was I supposed to do?” Derek shouts, growing angry. “Shove her off? I made it _very_ plain that I was married, and that we had two children. She knows I’m an Alpha and what that means you are. I was attempting to maintain civil interpack relations.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” 

“You’re being ridiculous!” Derek yells. “For fuck’s sake, I had my arm clamped around you for half the conversation!”

“A conversation in which she basically said humans suck and can’t understand wolves.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “That’s not what she was saying.”

“Ugh, yeah it was. Did you miss where she was trying to convince you to come to Nevada with her?”

“You’re being paranoid,” Derek growls, turning to walk away.

“Don’t walk away from me, Derek Hale!”

Derek whips around, crowding into Stiles’ space, eyes shining red. Stiles can’t help the spike of adrenaline and lust he feels. “Derek _Stilinski_ ¬-Hale, in case you forgot.” He growls deep in his chest. “I don’t care if every man and woman in the world was flirting with me. You are mine, and I am yours.”

“I know,” Stiles says. He’s trying to stay focused on the conversation, but _fuck_ Derek is so sexy like this. The confusion of emotions unsteadies him, torn between a burning jealousy and hurt and kinda just wanting Derek to fuck him against the nearest tree. “I just don’t like it when people act like I’m not even there.”

Derek leans down and presses his face against Stiles’ neck, and just breathes. His breath is warm against Stiles’ cold skin, and Stiles feels a shiver all the way down his body. “Mine.” Derek punctuates it by biting the spot where his neck meets his shoulder. Stiles moans, the sound loud in the quiet forest.

“Maybe I don’t smell enough like you,” Stiles says as Derek sucks and licks the spot he’s just bitten. 

“You smell perfect,” Derek murmurs against his skin, nosing behind Stiles’ ear. “Like mine.”

Stiles knows he’s being a bit overdramatic, but sometimes even with their feelings towards one another, he gets vulnerable. It’s not like the last few months have been easy, and sometimes Stiles is still afraid Derek will get tired of him. 

But right now, all that Stiles can think about is Derek manhandling him, marking him, scenting him, _claiming_ him. “Can we fuck against a tree now?” Stiles asks breathlessly as Derek bites up his neck. “Scott will watch the kids for a little bit. I’m sure he owes me for something.”

Derek grins against Stiles’ skin and starts pushing him back until Stiles’ back hit the nearest tree.

*

The Nevada Pack comes by Derek and Stiles’ house on their way out of town. The Alpha suggests a hunting run to strengthen the alliance before they leave. Stiles doesn’t feel quite comfortable with Derek and Scott running with this other Pack, especially since Nancy keeps sending looks at Derek and finding every opportunity to stand near him.

Stiles keeps the kids inside the house while the Pack waits outside for Scott. Derek comes looking for Stiles and finds him at the washing machine, adding new clothes while Patrick pulls the clean laundry from the dryer and puts it in a basket. Evie’s sitting in the basket, sucking on her pacifier, and throwing each item Patrick puts on her out of the basket onto the floor.

“Hey,” Derek murmurs against Stiles neck, coming up behind him and sliding his arms around Stiles’ waist. 

“Daddy!” Patrick exclaims. “Me and Evie are helping DD!”

“I can see that,” Derek says, amused. Stiles glances over his shoulder and sees all the clean clothes strewn across the floor. He sighs; he’d be irritated, but he’s too worried and on edge. Derek seems to pick up on it, because he drags his nose against the nape of his neck and kisses the knob of his spine. “What are you doing? You could come and be social.”

“Don’t,” Stiles snaps. 

Derek pulls back slightly, his arms tensing around Stiles’ waist. “Please don’t tell me you are still upset from last night?” Stiles slams the door to the washing machine shut. Patrick and Evie start whimpering, and he casts them a cursory glance before turning to face Derek. “It’d be nice to have my husband beside me while I’m entertaining a new Pack.”

“I don’t want them here,” Stiles whispers, lowering his voice just in case the other Pack can hear him. “This is our house, where my kids are. I don’t want that woman here. Did you see her flirting with you, _in my own yard?_ ” Derek looks like he’s suppressing a smile, and that enflames Stiles further. He pushes Derek’s chest to get away from him. “I’m glad you find this so funny.”

“It’s not funny,” Derek sighs. He squeezes Stiles’ side and lifts the corner of his mouth. “But do you hear yourself?” Stiles widens his eyes in irritation and shakes his head. Is Derek seriously saying these things? “You sound like a wolf. Territorial over your den, your Pack.” Derek leans close and growls against Stiles’ mouth, “It’s sexy.”

“Nothing about this feels sexy.”

Derek kisses him softly and pulls away. “They’ll be gone soon.”

Stiles frowns. “Be careful when you run with them. And watch out for Scott. I just…don’t like them.” Derek runs a hand through Stiles’ hair and squeezes his neck. “Hey, before you go.” Stiles steps forward, pulls Derek into an embrace, and wiggles against him. Then, he licks along Derek’s neck and breathes on him.

“Feel better now?” Derek asks, amused. 

“A little.”

Of course, Evie chooses that moment to start screaming. Stiles glances at the floor, where Patrick has crawled into the clothes basket with Evie and is crying. Evie has thrown her pacifier across the room. Stiles bends down and runs hands over both the kids’ heads. 

“Go do your Alpha stuff. We’ll be fine.” Stiles sits with his back against the washing machine and lifts Evie from the basket. “Won’t we, sweet girl?”

Derek frowns, but kisses Patrick, Evie, then Stiles and leaves the laundry room. Patrick gets out of the basket and crawls into Stiles’ lap, nuzzling his face into his shirt as he cries. “I know how you guys feel,” Stiles sighs, bouncing Evie and trying to get her to stop screaming in his ear.

*

Stiles finally gets Evie to calm down. He takes her upstairs, which is tricky since Patrick has his arms wrapped around Stiles’ legs and refuses to let go. Evie’s already asleep by the time Stiles lays her in her crib, and he pulls the blanket over her and nestles the glowworm beside her before lifting Patrick into his arms. Patrick wraps his arms and legs around Stiles and cries into his neck.

“Munchkin, what’s wrong?” Stiles carries him down the steps and then sits on the couch. Patrick continues crying. “Hey, talk to me.”

“You and Daddy are unhappy.”

“Patrick, look at me.” Patrick pulls away from Stiles’ neck, his face red, tear stained, his nose running. Stiles digs into his pocket and pulls out a tissue and wipes his nose. “Blow,” he instructs, and Patrick obeys. Stiles cleans up all the errant snot and tears. “Now, there’s no reason to be so upset.”

“But you are mad and Daddy is mad and there are people here.”

Stiles nods. “Those people are Daddy’s friends. And sometimes, Daddy and I get mad at each other. It’s completely normal, okay? But we still love each other very much, and more importantly, we love you very much.” He leans forward and rubs his nose against Patrick’s.

“But it makes me sad and mad when you and Daddy are sad and mad.”

“I know. You have to learn not to let what we feel make you feel the same thing. Daddy sometimes feels when you are sad, but he doesn’t get sad.”

Patrick looks down and plays with the collar of Stiles’ plaid shirt. “I don’t like it when you two are mad at each other.”

“I don’t either, kiddo, but it happens with families. You get mad at Evie, you get mad at us, we get mad with each other. But even if we are mad, how do we always feel about each other?”

“We love each other.”

“Exactly.” 

“I don’t like those other people,” Patrick mutters. 

Stiles frowns. He knows Patrick swings between being terrified of strangers and scent marking them, but it just confirms Stiles’ original feelings about this other Pack. “They’re fine, kiddo. And they’ll be gone soon.” Stiles leans forward and peppers kisses all over Patrick’s face. “Want to play while we wait for Daddy to come back?”

“Yes!” Patrick jumps down and runs into his playroom. 

Stiles is sitting in the floor, playing with the Batman playset, when there’s a knock on the door. Immediately, he’s on guard. “Stay here, okay?”

Patrick doesn’t even look up. “Okay, DD.” 

Stiles checks to make sure Patrick is still engrossed in playing before grabbing the dagger from the night before out of the cabinet in the living room. He clips it on the waist of his pants before covering it with his t-shirt and opening the door.

Nancy is standing on the other side, grinning. “Hello.”

“I think you got a little lost,” Stiles says. “Forest is that way.”

“I think it’s cute how intimidated you are by me,” Nancy says.

“I’m not intimidated,” Stiles says evenly. “I just don’t appreciate your blatant flirting with my husband.”

“Oh, honey, you think that’s blatant? Believe me,” she leans close, a cold grin on her overly painted lips, “you haven’t seen anything yet.”

“You do realize he is married? Not interested, not looking for some desperate, cheap werewolf to hook up with?”

Nancy growls, her eyes flashing yellow. Her attention snaps to the door. Patrick waddles into the doorway a moment later, holding two of his figurines. His eyes are shining yellow. 

“DD?” Patrick asks, looking between the two. Nancy’s eyes have returned to normal, but Patrick is still staring at her with wolf eyes. “Who are you?”

“Hey, buddy,” Stiles says, edging his way between them and refusing to turn his back on Nancy. “DD’s having an adult conversation. I’ll come play with you in a few minutes, okay?”

Patrick hesitates, but he turns and disappears back into the house. As soon as he’s out of sight, Stiles reaches into his pocket and tosses a handful of mountain ash behind him to bind the line surrounding the house. He and Derek had decided to line the house as soon as they built it, and Stiles had never used it until today. He’s glad he thought to put the mountain ash in his pocket when the Pack had shown up. Call him paranoid, but Stiles doesn’t trust anyone where his children are concerned.

Nancy growls again, this time displaying fangs. “Protecting your little mutts like a good bitch.”

“Get off my porch, and off my property,” Stiles seethes. He’s trying to stay calm, but she just _called his children mutts!_ He’s pretty sure if she doesn’t leave, he is going to do something stupid, like shove his wolfsbane-laced dagger in her eye.

“The Hale-McCall Pack is a disgrace,” Nancy says. “The Hale line is weakened by humans and bitten werewolves. Your so-called _True Alpha_ married a human hunter!” She growls. “The Hale Alpha should lead a proper Pack, not this joke. If Derek joined our Pack and mated with me, I could give him proper cubs, not these mutts, one of which is not even a werewolf.”

Stiles can barely see through his rage. He whips out his knife at the same time Nancy lunges for him. She’s got her claws poking painfully into his side, his knife against her throat. “I don’t know what your problem is, but let me explain things to you. I don’t give a fuck about your deluded, incestuous pure blood werewolf ideals. Derek is _mine_ , and you are the last person who could steal him away.” Stiles pushes the knife harder against her throat, which earns him more pressure from her claws. “But I’d fucking slice your throat just for insulting my kids.”

“You’re brave for a human, I’ll give you that,” she spits.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, you dumb cow.” 

“DD!” Patrick screams behind him. Stiles flinches at the sound of his voice, but doesn’t move. Nancy knows Stiles is straining against the instinct to check on his cub, but Stiles doesn’t back down. “DD, I can’t get out! What is the wolfie doing to you? YOU LEAVE MY DADDY ALONE!” Patrick growls. Stiles can hear him growling and snarling as he fights against the mountain ash barrier. 

“I could slash you right here before you could react,” Nancy says. “Leave your bleeding body for Derek to find. Kill those mutts so they don’t pollute the werewolf pool, or better, take them and raise them properly.”

“Derek will slice your throat for threatening his family,” Stiles states. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Maybe we’ll just take over this territory. Not like there’s much protecting it. Your weakened Pack is nothing compared to the full strength of our wolves. I think I’d like living here.”

Stiles sees the flicker of movement from her, and jabs the knife forward at the same time he twists away. Claws cut into his side as he lodges the knife into her shoulder. But the wolfsbane on the knife is enough to have her howling in pain and stumbling into the yard. 

Stiles drops to the porch, cradling his wounded side. He can hear Patrick’s terrified howls behind him, but the pain and the adrenaline is causing his head to feel a bit woozy. There’s a lot of blood, but when Stiles removes his hand to look at the slashes, he realizes they’re not that deep. Some stitches, but nothing major.

“I’m okay, munchkin,” Stiles says, looking at where Patrick is fully wolfed out and trying to break through the barrier. “It’s just a little boo-boo.” A little boo-boo that is bleeding…a lot. Oh god. He’s going to bleed out on the porch in front of his toddler. Great. 

“Derek,” he calls out, but he just doesn’t have the energy to scream. It hurts too much to talk, much yet scream. 

“DADDY! DD’S DYING!” Patrick screams.

“I’m not dying, Patrick.” Stiles is pretty sure about that. Blacking out, though, that may happen. Cause of the blood. Stiles would throw up, but that would probably really fucking hurt.

A couple of minutes later, a black wolf tears out of the forest and jumps on the wounded wolf, paws pressing into her chest. Stiles watches as Derek bares his teeth and growls in her face, then goes for her throat. 

“Derek, no!” Stiles yells, earning him a searing pain in his side. Patrick’s howling behind him, and Derek turns to look at them. He bares his teeth again, then snaps at her neck but only draws a little blood. Not long after that, Scott comes running out, followed by the rest of the Nevada Pack.

“Stiles, oh god, what happened?” Scott looks between Stiles bleeding on the porch and Derek snapping at the wolf’s neck threateningly. Nancy has her head to the side, baring her throat in submission.

“She attacked me,” Stiles replies.

“That’s a lie, he attacked me!” Nancy exclaims, and Derek growls and snaps at her again, drawing more blood. 

“What is the meaning of this?” the Nevada Alpha demands.

Scott helps Stiles to his feet, and Stiles sways a bit, so Scott wraps an arm around his waist to keep him from toppling over. He really appreciates it, and he tries to tell Scott he’s grateful the he’s helping him seem less weak and vulnerable in front of a rival Pack, but it kinda just comes out as a low, pained moan.

Derek shifts back to human. He crouches naked on Nancy, a hand around her throat. “What did you do to Stiles?” He yanks the wolfsbane-laced knife from Nancy’s shoulder and drops it onto the ground beside him. “Answer me or I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”

The other Pack wolfs out and crouches in a defensive pose at Derek’s threat. Scott roars, and everyone turns to look at him. “Enough!” He moves to the edge of the porch with Stiles. “Stiles, what happened?”

“She came to the door, called my kids mutts – “ Derek growls so loudly it interrupts Stiles, “and said the Pack was a disgrace because you married a hunter, and we weren’t pure werewolves or something, then threatened to take over our territory.” Stiles sags against Scott, just the effort of talking too much. He’s feeling lightheaded, and Scott’s really comfy, so he figures he’ll just close his eyes right here.

“Is this true?” Scott asks. Stiles can hear the anger in his voice, feel it vibrating through his body. 

“Answer,” Derek growls, voice barely human.

“It is a disgrace that the Hale Alpha is part of such a weak Pack,” Nancy says. “Tell them, Molly.”

The Alpha, Molly, holds her ground when Scott and Derek growl at her. “What Nancy says is true. We believe mixing with humans, and more importantly hunters, is a disgrace to werewolves.” Derek’s growling so loudly now that Stiles is afraid he’s going to kill them all.

“Don’t let him do anything stupid,” Stiles whispers to Scott, and Scott pats his hip in acknowledgment. To the group at large, he says, “She came to challenge me for Derek. She wants to mate with him. Then she challenged the Pack for the territory.”

“Even if I wasn’t with Stiles, I would _never_ mate with you,” Derek snaps.

“Were you aware of this?” Scott asks Molly.

“I was aware that Nancy felt a strong attraction to Alpha Hale, but I did not know she intended to challenge his human.” Scott stares at her, and she adds, “We also do not challenge the Pack’s claim on this territory. I did not condone these actions. Though our Pack does not believe in including humans, nor do we recognize wolf-human matches, I did not tell Nancy to challenge this human or the Pack. My intention was only to retrieve our sick Pack member and solidify an alliance before returning peacefully.”

“Why would you want to solidify an alliance with a disgraceful Pack?” Stiles spits. 

“I believe you understand the necessity of forming alliances to protect your Pack at all costs,” Molly explains, “even if you do not agree with the ways of those allies.”

Stiles closes his eyes and sags against Scott. His hand is drenched in blood, his clothes saturated. And he’s just so tired. He’s not in the mood for stupid werewolf politics.

“DD,” Patrick cries over and over behind him.

“’s okay,” Stiles thinks he mumbles. He’s not really sure.

“Though Derek has every right to kill Nancy,” Scott states, “we do not want any blood on our hands or spilled blood in this territory. Leave our territory, and never return. If any of your Pack sets foot on our land, we will kill them.”

Molly nods, and Derek reluctantly steps away from Nancy. The two Betas take her, and they run off into the woods. 

Stiles doesn’t know what’s happening until he feels piercing pain in his side and cries out. “I’ve got you,” Derek murmurs against his head. “I’m so sorry, Stiles. I should have listened to you.”

“Should always listen to me,” Stiles mutters. “Always right.” He pats Derek’s chest, leaving a smear of blood, and notices Derek’s chest is still bare. He opens his eyes long enough to look up into Derek’s face. “You’re naked,” Stiles says, and then promptly passes out.

*

Stiles comes to later, immediately panicking. His memory is a bit fuzzy, and all he can register is how much his side hurts. He tries to sit up, but two hands hold him down. 

“Relax,” Derek says, and at the sound of his voice, Stiles does. “How are you feeling?”

“Hurts,” Stiles says, and a moment later, one large and one small hand is pressed against his side followed by a familiar warmth. Stiles opens his eyes to see both Derek and Patrick’s veins turning black. “Is it okay if he does this?” Stiles asks, looking at Patrick’s face pulled in concentration.

“He’s fine,” Derek replies, ruffling Patrick’s hair.

“You hurt, DD,” Patrick says, moving so he can hug Stiles’ neck. “I take the hurt away. I take care of you like you take care of me.” Stiles smiles and kisses his head. “Daddy told me you were okay. I was really scared, and I, and I saw the blood and you don’t heal and the wolfie – “

“Ssh,” Stiles says, pulling Patrick close when he starts to get hysterical. “I’m fine. I may not be a wolfie, but I’m a tough old bird.”

Patrick sits up suddenly. “You’re a bird?”

Stiles laughs and shakes his head. “Not a bird. Just plain old boring human.”

“I like you as a plain old boring human,” Derek says, pulling Evie into his lap as he stretches beside Stiles on the bed. Evie’s face is red, her eyes damp like she’s been crying. 

“Is she okay?”

“Been crying since we came back from Deaton’s. Your dad said she and Patrick wailed the entire time we were there, and she’s been crying ever since.”

“My dad’s here?” Stiles asks, groggily looking around.

“Downstairs. Want me to get him?” Stiles nods. Derek puts Evie on the bed beside Stiles and leaves the room. Stiles pulls Evie into one of his arm, Patrick in the other one, and holds them close. His brain still feels like cotton, his body is thrumming with anxiety, but feeling them near calms him. Evie starts licking his face, and Stiles smiles.

“You got baby cooties,” Patrick says, wrinkling his nose.

“I want your sister’s cooties,” Stiles says, “Just like I want your cooties. Gimme a kiss.” Stiles puckers his lips and Patrick gives him a loud kiss.

“Hey, kiddo,” the sheriff says as he walks into the room ahead of Derek. 

“You look like crap, Pops,” Stiles jokes. The sheriff has worry lines around his face and bags under his eyes. 

“You’re going to send me to an early grave.” The sheriff drops onto the edge of the bed, and Evie crawls over to him. “You scared me to death.”

“You’re not the only one,” Derek frowns. Stiles reaches out and grabs his hand, lacing their fingers.

“How many stitches? How long can I not move?” Stiles asks, motioning towards his side.

“It was pretty shallow,” Derek explains. “Few days of rest. Deaton sent some salve over that’s supposed to help speed up the healing process. You should be okay in a week or two.”

“Great,” Stiles groans, closing his eyes. “Do I at least get painkillers?”

“Only those of the werewolf hand variety,” Derek says. Stiles grunts in response.

“Hey, Patrick,” the sheriff says. “Wanna go downstairs and watch some TV while Grandma Melissa fixes dinner?”

“But I want to stay with DD,” Patrick whines.

“DD needs to rest, see?” 

Patrick whispers, “DD’s asleep. Can I watch _Bubble Guppies_?” 

“Sure.”

Stiles feels Patrick kiss his cheek, Evie give him her open-mouthed kiss, and the sheriff kiss his forehead. “Get some rest, kiddo.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime.” Stiles hears the sheriff pat Derek on the shoulder before taking the kids from the room. 

Derek moves closer to him, drapes an arm across Stiles’ chest, and nuzzles his neck. “You fucking scared me to death.”

“It was a bit out of my control,” Stiles replies, blindly reaching out to pat Derek’s thigh.

“I wanted to rip that wolf to pieces,” Derek says quietly. 

“I know,” Stiles says. “I told Scott to not let you do anything stupid.” Derek growls low in his throat. Stiles opens his eyes and glances at Derek. “No.”

Derek frowns. “She deserves to die.”

“No.” Stiles shakes his head. 

“I could easily track her down, watch her bleed out on the desert sand for what she did to you.” Derek’s eyes burn red and there’s a terrifying fury on his face. “She could have killed you. If you had been less prepared, she would have killed you. And then you’d – “ Derek cuts off and closes his eyes.

“Hey, hey, look at me, Derek.” Stiles lifts his hand to rub Derek’s cheek. When he opens his eyes, they are back to their normal color. “I’m fine. I’ll probably have a few scars to match all the other scars on my body.” Derek’s frown deepens. “But I forbid you chasing that wolf into her territory and killing her. I will not have you become a murderer because of me. I absolutely forbid it.”

“You forbid it?” Derek growls, eyes flashing red. 

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Yes. I forbid it, oh mighty Alpha. If she comes back onto our territory ever again, I’ll eat popcorn while I watch you kill her. Deal?” Derek looks like he wants to argue, but Stiles sighs. “Please, Derek. I’m exhausted, and I’m in pain. I don’t want to add worrying that you’ll go off on some protective murderous rampage to my list of problems.”

“Fine.”

Stiles carefully leans forward to kiss Derek lightly on the lips before settling back down and closing his eyes. They sit quietly like that for awhile. “She called our kids mutts.” Stiles opens his eyes and turns his head to look at Derek. “I never thought someone could be so cruel.”

“There are wolves that believe like them,” Derek says, disdain apparent in his voice.

“Kinda like the Death Eaters in _Harry Potter_ who hate mudbloods?”

“Yeah,” Derek says, and Stiles smiles, “Except not at all.”

Stiles frowns. “Don’t be mean to me, I’m injured.”

Derek cuddles closer. “You can’t scare me like that,” he whispers. 

“Is Patrick going to be okay?” Stiles asks. “He…saw some shit today.”

“I hope.” Derek sighs and rests his head on Stiles’ chest. He listens to Stiles’ heart beating in his chest as Stiles runs his fingers through his hair until he drifts off to sleep.

*

The next weeks are quiet. The gashes on Stiles’ side heal, and Derek and Stiles finally stop fighting so much. Other than being clingy to Stiles for a few days after the incident with the Nevada Pack, Patrick seems to be okay. Evie still doesn’t start talking or turn into a werewolf, but Derek seems to be dealing with it better.

A Saturday in mid-October, the sheriff accompanies Derek, Stiles, and the kids to Costco. “Explain to me why we’re here again?” Derek asks, looking around. He wrinkles his nose and looks like he’s pained.

“It’s cheaper for certain things, like diapers for one,” Stiles points out. “And Dad wants to get a few things for their house.” Stiles pushes a cart with a built in kids car, which Patrick sits in and makes _vroom_ noises as he turns the steering wheel, and the sheriff pushes his cart with Evie in the seat. 

“Think the kids would like this?” the sheriff asks, pointing to a toy set of kitchen food. “It’d go with that little stove they have in the play room.”

“Dad, they don’t need any toys,” Stiles says.

“I didn’t ask if they needed toys. I asked if they would like it.” Stiles sighs, and the sheriff frowns at him. “I can spoil my grandbabies if I want to.”

“I’m sure they’ll love it,” Stiles finally relents. The sheriff tosses it into his cart and pushes ahead.

“Can I have that?” Patrick asks as they pass brightly colored boxes.

“It’s just soap,” Derek tells him.

“What about that? Can I have that?” 

“Still not something you’d want.”

“I want something!”

“Why do you want something?” Derek asks. 

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because.” Derek rolls his eyes in frustration.

“Don’t try arguing with a three year old,” the sheriff says. “You’ll always lose. Stiles was the worst.”

“Why do all the stories you tell about me make me seem like a horrible child?” Stiles exclaims. “I was a great child. Mom thought so.”

The sheriff smiles. “Your mom never saw when you were being a bad kid. You were always good for her, and when you weren’t, she ignored it.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you got the brunt of my bad childhood years?” Stiles asks.

“Pretty much.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Stiles drawls, and the sheriff claps him on the shoulder.

“DD!” Patrick says, twisting around the edge of the plastic car. “DD, I have to poop!”

“Now?” Stiles asks.

“I have to poop! I have to poop real bad!” Stiles feels his face heat up when a few fellow shoppers turn to look at them. 

“I’ll take him,” Derek offers.

“It’s okay, I’ll do it,” Stiles says. He hands Derek the grocery list. “You and Dad keep shopping.” He hooks the strap of the diaper bag on his shoulder and carries Patrick to the other side of the store. Patrick won’t let Stiles help him pull his pants or Pull Ups down, so Stiles wipes down the toilet seat and puts on a cover while Patrick struggles to be a big boy. 

When Patrick’s ready, Stiles lifts him onto the toilet. Patrick just sits there. 

“I thought you had to poop,” Stiles says. 

“I do!”

“Well, poop!” 

“I can’t if you’re watching me.”

“You can’t – ugh, fine.” Stiles turns around. “Better?”

“Better.” 

Stiles waits, occasionally looking over his shoulder to where Patrick is just sitting. Finally, Patrick lets out a huge fart, and Stiles turns around just as Patrick starts giggling.

“You are so your father’s son,” Stiles says, shaking his head. “Do you still have to poop?”

“Nope.”

Stiles groans as he helps Patrick pull his clothes back on. He wipes down their hands before leading them through the store to find the others.

Ten minutes later, Patrick leans over the edge of the car again and says, “DD, I have to poop!”

“No, you don’t,” Stiles replies.

“I thought he just went,” Derek says.

“No, he didn’t.”

“I really have to poop! It’s about to come out!”

“Oh for the love of god,” Stiles exclaims. “Patrick, I’m not taking you to the bathroom again just to have you sit there. I would like to finish shopping before tomorrow.”

“I can feel it, DD!” 

“Fine.” Stiles grabs Patrick and the diaper bag from the cart.

“I’ll come with you,” Derek says, pulling Evie from the sheriff’s cart. “She needs changing.”

“I’ll wait for you,” the sheriff says, not hiding his amusement.

“Glad you think this is funny,” Stiles mutters, and the sheriff laughs. 

Stiles and Derek enter the family restroom, and Stiles helps Patrick go to the bathroom while Derek changes Evie. 

“Turn around DD!” Patrick tells him, and Stiles obeys. Derek lifts a quizzical eyebrow.

“He can’t poop if I’m watching apparently,” Stiles explains.

Derek chuckles as he fits a fresh diaper on Evie. “It’s a phase. Usually wolves aren’t very discreet about natural body functions.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Stiles says.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Derek teases. “We were barely together a few months before you were leaving the door open when you were taking a crap.”

“Hey, after all that we’ve been through together, that seemed not to matter.” Stiles punches Derek’s arm. “Besides, you were the one who was farting on me first.”

“What do you think, Evie?” Derek asks, tickling her belly, and she starts laughing loudly.

After Patrick is finished, his hands washed and clothes righted, Stiles glances at the three of them. “Are we good now? No more pooping and diaper changes? I can finish my shopping?”

“Yep!” Patrick exclaims. “No more poop! Unless you have to poop!”

“I’m good for now.”

Derek laughs, and Stiles rolls his eyes as he opens the bathroom door.

*

Derek hears the door crack before Patrick even sticks his head inside. “Daddy? DD?”

“What is it, Patrick?” Derek asks sleepily.

“I had an accident.”

“Did you wet your bed?” Derek sits up and rubs his eyes. Stiles stirs beside him, but remains asleep.

“Kinda.”

Derek pauses and looks at Patrick’s silhouette in the doorway. He’s naked, and when Derek inhales, he smells just what kind of accident Patrick has. “Where are your clothes?” he asks as he gets out of bed.

“Wahs g’on?” Stiles mumbles sleepily.

“Patrick had an accident. Go back to sleep, I got it.” Stiles settles as Derek crosses the room to where Patrick is waiting. 

He’s not expecting what he finds when he follows Patrick into his bedroom. His sheets are bunched in the middle of the room, and the walls are covered in, well, shit. Patrick’s full, discarded Pull Up is in the middle of the room, and now that Derek has figured out the full extent of what’s going on, he realizes that Patrick’s hands are covered in poop and it’s also smeared on his cheek.

Derek tries to remain calm. But it’s the middle of the night and he has no clue how to deal with this. He feels a pang of sadness when he realizes this is a moment when he wishes he could call his mother. It’s not like he has a manual on how to raise baby werewolves. “I’m going to go get DD and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Derek leaves the room and hurries down the hall, noticing as he enters his bedroom that Patrick had gotten the doorknob dirty. He is so not prepared for this.

“Stiles,” Derek says, going over to Stiles’ side of the bed and shaking him awake. “Stiles, get up.”

“What?” Stiles rolls over and doesn’t budge.

“Get up! I need your help.”

“Everything okay?” Stiles asks, yawning as he sits up.

“Patrick, um, well. There’s shit everywhere.”

“What?” Stiles is awake now, looking at Derek in a mixture of confusion and disgust.

“He had an accident, and I think he painted with it on the walls.”

Stiles’ eyes go really wide. “Is that normal?” Stiles exclaims.

“How the hell should I know?” Derek hisses. “Blood I can handle, but poop is a whole different story.”

“If we can scrub blood out of the Camaro, and slime out of our clothes, we can totally face a little bit of kid shit. We’ve been changing diapers for years.”

“But that was always _in the diaper_ ,” Derek says. “I need your help. He’s dirty, the walls, our doorknob, his sheets…” Stiles grabs his tablet from the nightstand at the same time as his phone. “What are you doing?”

“Calling Melissa and searching on Google,” Stiles says, “to make sure it’s normal.”

Derek nods, and then heads downstairs for the Lysol and paper towels. When he comes back, Patrick is drawing a smiley face on the wall. “Come here. Can you put your Pull Up in the trash bag?”

Patrick does as he’s told as Derek figures out what to do first. He starts by putting the soiled sheets out in the hall and wiping down the plastic bed covering. By the time he’s finished, Stiles has come into the room.

“What did Melissa say?” Derek asks.

“Totally normal,” Stiles responds. “According to her and Google, keep calm, just a phase.” Derek nods and starts wiping down the walls. “I’m gonna go bathe Patrick,” Stiles says, picking up Patrick and wrinkling his nose. “You’re a little stinker.”

“I stink,” Patrick giggles, and Stiles sighs.

By the time Stiles returns with a clean, fresh Patrick, Derek has gotten most of the wall clean. Derek finishes the walls while Stiles makes Patrick’s bed and then tucks him in. 

“Are you mad I poopied my pants?” Patrick asks. Derek turns around and shakes his head as Stiles runs a hand down his damp hair.

“No, munchkin. We know you didn’t do it on purpose,” Derek says. 

“And you are doing really well going to the potty,” Stiles tells him. “It’s okay to have accidents.” He kisses Patrick’s hair, and says, “I’m gonna go help Daddy finish cleaning. You try to go to sleep.”

“Okay. I love you, DD.”

“Love you, too, kiddo.”

“Love you, Daddy!”

“Love you more,” Derek says as he scrubs at a particular difficult spot on the wall. Stiles squats down beside him and picks up a rag.

“This sucks,” Stiles whispers. 

“You haven’t been cleaning shit off the wall for half an hour.”

“No, I was cleaning it off our son.”

They work quietly until Derek determines they have cleaned everything, and Stiles goes downstairs to throw the sheets into soak while Derek cleans their doorknob. He joins Derek in washing their hands and arms thoroughly afterwards. Before they get into bed, Stiles pulls Derek to him and just holds him.

Derek smiles, pressing his face into Stiles’ hair, and…”Stiles?”

“Yeah?” Stiles pulls back and Derek’s eyes dart from a spot on his hair to his cheek. 

“You, um, have got a little…”

“Oh shit,” Stiles exclaims, jumping back from Derek.

“Yeah, you do.” Derek bursts out laughing, and Stiles tries to look scandalized, but is soon bent over, laughing and gasping for breath. 

“Ohmigod,” Stiles says, walking into the bathroom, Derek following. He leans against the doorframe while Stiles washes the poop from his face and then his hair in the sink. “Remember the days when we’d be in a bathroom, washing blood off us?” Stiles looks at Derek in the mirror. “We’ve traded blood for poop, how gross is that?”

Derek shrugs. “I think I prefer late nights washing our son’s poop off me.”

Stiles laughs and shakes his head. “As ridiculous as it sounds, I think I do, too. What have our lives become, Derek?”

“Scarily enough, we’re parents.”

“Apparently, that means poop in your hair.” Stiles towel dries his hair and follows Derek into bed. 

Derek pulls him close and wrinkles his nose again. “Stiles.”

“I don’t fucking care if I smell like shit. It’s two a.m. and I have to get up in the morning for work.” Stiles nudges Derek. “Roll over on your other side, that way your freaky werewolf nose will be away from it.”

“I love you,” Derek chuckles as he turns over. 

Stiles cuddles up against his back. “Love you, too.”

*

**Can I go to Scott’s after I get off work?**

**You don’t have to ask my permission.**

**I’m aware of that, Derek. I just thought I’d make sure you didn’t have anything pressing you needed to do.**

**I don’t care if you go. Anything wrong?**

**Nope. He just wants to hang out. It’s been too long since I saw him.**

**Want me to invite Allison and the kids to our place for dinner?**

**You can if you want. I don’t care if they’re there.**

**Allison’s bringing them over at 6. Isaac’s coming, too. We’re gonna build a bon fire, grill hamburgers, and roast smores.**

**Dammit, now I want to come to Pack bon fire night :|**

**Enjoy your night playing video games with Scott.**

**Save me a smore?**

**Sure thing.**

*

Derek walks into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Stiles is leaning on the counter in front of the coffee pot, his head on his arms, wearing nothing but Batman briefs. Derek takes a moment to stare at the way Stiles’ ass looks bent over in the tight, black cotton. Stiles shifts his weight from one foot to the other, causing the yellow trim to hike up just a bit, and Derek drags his eyes from the round of Stiles’ ass down the back of his lean thighs. 

He crosses the kitchen in three easy steps and wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist, his face buried against the back of his neck. “Morning.” Stiles mumbles something that was probably supposed to be English. “Did you sleep well?” Stiles shakes his head.

“Need coffee,” Stiles finally manages. Derek kisses the back of his neck, noses behind his ear. He rocks his hips against Stiles, his cock half-hard as he drags his palm flat down Stiles’ chest and then cups his crotch. Stiles makes a sound that might could be considered a squeak. “What are you doing? We’re in the middle of the kitchen!”

“So?” Derek asks, canting his hips against Stiles in a slow rhythm as he palms against Stiles’ briefs. “My kitchen.”

“What if… _oh_ ,” Stiles sighs breathily as Derek reaches into his briefs and pulls out his cock. Derek gives it a few tugs before it hardens in his hand. “What if Patrick walks in?”

“He won’t be up for a little bit yet,” Derek whispers. He brings his hand to his mouth and licks his palm before circling Stiles’ cock again. He slides his other hand into his own boxer briefs and starts to jack himself off as he does the same to Stiles. “I love you in those fucking Batman briefs. So fucking hot.”

“If this is what happens when I wear them, I’ll wear them every morning,” Stiles jokes, thrusting his hips into Derek’s hand. “Fuck, I’m close, so unless you want to clean come off the cabinets at six in the morning…”

Derek spins Stiles around as he drops to his knees, taking Stiles into his mouth. With a few swipes of his tongue, Stiles is coming down his throat, Derek swallowing it greedily. When Derek pulls off, Stiles tugs him up and drops to the floor, not bothering to tuck himself back in as he sucks Derek off. When Stiles stands back up, Derek takes his time touching Stiles as he tucks him back inside his underwear, then rubs his hands over his ass as he kisses him. 

“Maybe I should get a pair,” Derek says against Stiles’ mouth, his hands inside the band and gripping at Stiles’ ass. “What do you think?”

“I think I just came again. In my mind. Many times. While you were wearing Batman briefs.” 

Derek grins. “I’ll put them on the shopping list.”

*

Derek hates days he has to drive to San Francisco for work. He hates being away from the kids, hates being out of his territory, hates the traffic, hates being on the road that many hours. The moms he listens to when he takes the kids to the park always complain about how they want a break from their kids, a day for themselves. Derek thinks maybe he’s weird, because he never thinks that. He’s happiest when he’s with Stiles and the kids, and spending every day with the kids is perfect. Maybe it’s a wolf thing, or maybe it’s just a Derek thing.

Either way, Derek breathes a sigh of relief when he pulls the Camaro into the driveway. It’s like the ball of anxiety that has been sitting in his chest all day finally dissipates. There’s a comfort in knowing his family is so close that he can smell them. Maybe there’s just comfort in knowing he has a family.

He hangs his keys on the hook by the door as he toes off his shoes just inside the front door. Stiles and the kids aren’t in the living room, so he follows the muffled sounds upstairs to the open bathroom door. The scene that greets him causes him to feel warm and fuzzy all over, and his smile threatens to crack his face.

Stiles, Patrick, and Evie are in their large bathtub, taking a bubble bath. Patrick is facing Stiles, both of them with dolls in their hands, and Evie is standing and scribbling on the bathroom wall with bath crayons. 

“Daddy!” Patrick exclaims when he smells him. Derek leans on the doorway and crosses his arms over his chest. “We’re playing _Bubble Guppies_. You want to play?”

“Sure.” Derek walks into the bathroom, taking off his blazer and tie, then shedding his button up so he’s left in just his undershirt. He kisses Stiles as he sits on the edge of the tub. 

“You just got your butt wet, didn’t you?” Stiles asks with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Derek chuckles. “Don’t care. A small price to pay to join in bath time.” 

Patrick hands Derek a Ken doll and a Barbie doll. “You can be these two. She is a mermaid from the moon, and he is a merman from the ocean.”

“Okay.” Derek nods. He points to Stiles’ two superhero action figures. “Who are you?”

“Aquaman’s distant uncles,” Stiles replies with a smile. Derek rolls his eyes fondly.

Patrick holds up his Ken doll and a GI Joe for Derek to see. “These are the merpeople princes. They had to fight off the evil squid,” Stiles holds up a squid-shaped water squirter, “who, who was trying to eat everyone. This is their sister,” Patrick holds up a Barbie doll, “She has wings and a tail and can fly above the water.”

“This is all very intricate,” Derek says.

Patrick holds his Ken and GI Joe up again. “The princes are Fred and Tim. They are going to get married like you and DD.”

“They are?”

Patrick nods. “They are going to rule the ocean, and live happily ever after. But they don’t know that an evil crab is coming to attack them soon!” Stiles pulls a crab squirter from the water and squirts Derek in the face.

“How long did it take him to come up with this?” Derek asks as he wipes his face.

“He’s been working on it all morning. He started out playing in a plastic bowl I filled with water.” Stiles makes his action figures swim through the bath bubbles as Patrick has the Ken doll fight with a whale squirter. “How was work?”

“Long. But fine. Got all the contracts signed, finalized a few manuscripts, made arrangements for new ones.”

“Good.” He smiles up at Derek. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Now you know how I feel when you go to work.”

Stiles shakes his head. “How do you function without me?”

“It’s difficult,” Derek half-jokes.

Having grown bored with the crayons, Evie tosses them into the bathwater and squats into the water to grab one of Patrick’s dolls. 

“Evie, that’s my doll!” Patrick yells, snatching it away. Evie starts crying and climbs on him to try and get it back. “No, Evie!”

“Patrick!” Stiles exclaims. “Share with your sister! You have plenty of dolls.”

“But this is my doll!” Patrick whines. 

“What have we said about being selfish?”

Patrick pouts. “I shouldn’t be shellfish. I should share with Evie and the Pack.”

“Right. Now, it’s okay if you want to play with that doll, but you have to be nice about it,” Stiles says. “What should you do instead of yelling and snatching?”

Patrick takes a Barbie and Ken doll from the water and hands them to Evie. “Evie, you can play with these.”

Evie laughs excitedly as she takes the dolls, immediately sticking Barbie’s legs in her mouth.

“No, pumpkin. Don’t chew on the doll,” Derek says, carefully taking it out of Evie’s mouth. A few minutes later, Derek looks under the cabinet to get the colored bath light. He turns it on before dropping it into the water by Evie.

Evie squeals happily, completely forgetting about the dolls in favor of splashing the water where the lights are flashing. Derek pulls out his camera and takes a video.

“Don’t put this on Facebook,” Stiles jokes. 

Derek arches an eyebrow. “I don’t even put photos of the kids on Facebook, much less videos.”

“I think it’s so weird when people put videos of their kids bathing and running around with no diapers on Facebook. Sure, all our kids do those things, but still. It’s Facebook.” Stiles shakes his head.

Derek watches as Evie excitedly slaps the water, chasing blue, then green, then pink. Patrick has his dolls in some kind of epic battle with all the sea creature squirters. 

When Patrick bores of his dolls, he turns to Derek. “Can I shave you?”

“What?” 

“Look, I show you how to shave, Daddy.” Patrick takes bubbles from the bath and puts them on his face like shaving cream, and then on Stiles’ face the same way. When Stiles’ face is covered to Patrick’s satisfaction, he drags the edge of his hand down his face like a razor, removing all the suds. He does the same thing to his own face. “Look, all shaved!”

“Okay, kiddo, you can shave my beard.” Derek removes his undershirt and sits on the floor so he can be level with Patrick. Patrick stands up and leans towards Derek, hand full of suds that he smears on Derek’s face. “This is pretend, right? I don’t want to lose the beard.”

“You can’t lose the beard,” Patrick says, adding more suds to Derek’s cheeks. “It is attached. It will never go away.”

“Your dad didn’t have a beard when we met,” Stiles says, blowing suds towards Evie. 

Patrick’s face morphs into exaggerated shock. “What? No beard?”

“I shaved it around the time Evie was born, too,” Derek says. “You don’t remember that, do you?”

Patrick shakes his head as he pulls his hand down Derek’s face. “You wouldn’t be Daddy without the beard. You’re a wolfie, wolfies have lots of hair!”

“You don’t have lots of hair,” Derek says. “Neither does Uncle Scott or Uncle Isaac.”

“But you’re a full wolfie!” Patrick states.

“His logic is sound,” Stiles jokes.

“There Daddy, all shaved!” Patrick beams at him.

“Thanks, kiddo.” He messes up Patrick’s wet hair. 

“Now, let’s give DD new hair,” Patrick says, grabbing his Dora shampoo. Derek grabs his camera and snaps a picture when Patrick gives Stiles a shampoo Mohawk.

*

“Do I have to wear a costume?” Derek grumbles as he pushes Evie in a cart through the Halloween costume section at Target. 

“You don’t have to,” Stiles says. “But there are certain _perks_ that go along with wearing costumes, if you get my meaning.” He waggles his eyebrows at Derek. 

“I don’t have to wear a costume to get those perks,” Derek points out.

“You’re getting boring in your old age, Derek. Losing your flare for adventure. We need to spice it up a little.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night,” Derek says, arching an eyebrow defiantly at Stiles.

“It’s because you’re going deaf in your old age.” Stiles hooks his arm through Derek’s and covers his hand on the cart’s handlebar. “Please dress up with me. We finally get to go trick-or-treating with the kids. Patrick is so excited about Halloween.”

Derek sighs. “Fine. But no spandex.”

“You are so limiting my options, dude.”

Patrick comes running over to them, wearing a werewolf mask and plastic werewolf paws. There’s patches of fake grey fur on them, the skin knobbed and rough. “Rawr! I’m the Alpha! Like Daddy!”

Derek glances around to make sure no one is around to pay them attention. Though, it’s easy to gloss over what a three year old says. “I don’t look like that.”

Patrick giggles and takes off the mask. “You do, too.” Derek rolls his eyes as Patrick and Stiles look for a costume. 

“What do you want to be, Evie?” He leans down and kisses her cheek, and she turns and licks his face. “Let’s see. Little princess?” He holds it up to her, and she leans down to gnaw at the bar. “Don’t eat the bar, pumpkin.” Derek browses through ladybug, bumble bee, butterfly, superhero, and Disney costumes. But nothing strikes his liking. But then he sees a costume on the very back of a shelf. A simple pumpkin costume. 

He pulls it out and examines it. Oversized plain orange pumpkin suit with no ugly face drawn on it, orange tights, and a green hair piece in the shape of a stem and curled vines. Derek smiles and holds it up to Evie. “What do you think, pumpkin? Wanna be my little pumpkin for Halloween?” Evie gurgles and reaches for the costume.

“You can’t be serious,” Stiles says as he comes up behind Derek. “That is the most boring costume ever!”

“I like it,” Derek says.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Of course you would. But Derek, Halloween is the time to dress up in fun costumes. You could get her something more interesting than a pumpkin.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the pumpkin costume,” Derek says. “Not everything has to be superhero or geek themed to be good.”

“But a pumpkin? That’s so lame.”

Derek frowns as he glares at Stiles. “Fine,” he snaps. “Get the kids whatever you want, like you always do. I’ll be in the toiletries section.” He angrily pushes his cart around the corner of the aisle, away from the stupid costumes. It’s a stupid holiday anyway.

“Derek, wait!” Stiles calls behind him, but Derek ignores him. He’s too irritated. “You can’t possibly be that upset about a costume.” 

Derek whips the cart around, and Stiles bumps into it. He’s carrying Patrick, who’s looking between them, his face set in a pout. Stiles puts him down, and Patrick crawls on his belly onto the shelf under the cart.

“It’s not the costume,” Derek growls.

“Then what’s the matter!”

“Just…you!”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You always make fun of the stuff I like, or call it lame. I’m sorry I’m not as hip or geeky or whatever as you are, but your constant snide comments are getting old.”

“Hey,” Stiles says, “I do not make fun of the stuff you like.” Derek raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “…All the time,” Stiles amends. “Look, I like teasing you. You just make it so easy. But if it bothers you that bad, I’ll stop. I love all your lame stuff.”

“Not helping.”

Stiles sighs. “Dude, I’m the lame geek who likes stupid, pointless stuff like comic books and action figures. If anyone is lame, well, it’s both of us.”

“You always pick stuff for the kids,” Derek says. “Christmas gifts have to be perfect and cool, Halloween costumes have to be something geeky, birthday parties have to have a theme. I just sometimes want to get them puzzles or a ball or a simple balloon that says ‘Happy Birthday’ and dress them up as pumpkins.”

“But they’re my little babies,” Stiles explains. “I have to instill my awesome geekery into them, otherwise it’s going to be three extremely attractive, cool werewolves and their awkward human Dad.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Look, if it means that much to you, you can pick out their costumes. Evie will make an adorable pumpkin.” He glances down at her, and she blows bubbles with her spit. “Really, she’d be adorable as anything. Pretty sure we have the cutest little girl in existence.” She blows a few more bubbles and then starts making noises with her lips.

“Fine. Evie’s a pumpkin.”

“Patrick, buddy, come here,” Stiles directs towards the bottom of the cart. He climbs out and stands between them. “What do you want to be for Halloween?”

“Whatever you and Daddy want me to be.”

“We want you to choose,” Derek says. 

“Can I be a witch? Or a princess?”

“If you really want to.”

Patrick grins. “Cool.” He runs back towards the costumes.

“Should we be worried he wants to dress up like a princess?” Derek asks.

“Nah,” Stiles says. “You can’t tell me you didn’t dress up in your mom’s clothes, or god, that Laura didn’t dress you up.”

Derek laughs. “Full make up once. She even painted my toenails.”

“I would love to see that.” Stiles leans close. “Would you wear makeup and lingerie for me?”

Derek swallows. “Yes.” Stiles just stops and looks shell-shocked for a moment. “What?”

“I just got a mental image of you in stockings. Please. Please do this soon. Tonight, even?”

Derek laughs. “Pick them out before we leave.”

“Fuck, I love you.” Stiles kisses him and they go join Patrick at the kid’s costumes.

*

“Lookit the candy I got, Aunt Allison,” Patrick says, holding up his bag as they walk down the street.

“That’s a lot of candy,” Allison replies. “How are you going to eat it all?”

“DD and Daddy will help,” Patrick says. “I will share like a good boy cause I’m not shellfish.”

Patrick is dressed as a little vampire. Sarah had come over with costume make up and painted his face white and slicked his hair back. Isaac’s middle son Nick, and Scott’s oldest Emily also went as vampires, so they matched. Stiles went as Spiderman, and Derek decided on a vampire like Patrick, but he refused to let Sarah put white makeup on him. He is wearing plastic fangs, which Scott and Isaac got a kick out of when they saw it. 

“I’m not sharing with anyone,” Isaac’s oldest Millie says, who’s dressed like Belle. “This is all my candy.”

“Last year, we found candy hidden underneath her bed in January. And how did we find it?” Isaac asks.

“Ants. They ate all my candy!”

“We get to go to Pop-pop and Grandma’s after this and get more candy!” Scott’s middle son Ryan says. 

“And we get to bob for apples,” Emily says.

“What’s that?” Patrick asks. 

“When we shove your face into water until you get an apple,” Isaac’s youngest Josh says.

“Josh,” Sarah sighs. “It’s where you try to get an apple from a bucket with your teeth.”

“Can I use wolfie teeth?” Patrick asks.

“Yep, squirt. Those are the best teeth,” Millie says, smiling with her fangs bared. Patrick giggles and then opens his mouth to show her his fangs. That starts all the cubs comparing fangs, except for Emily who is the only human of the bunch. 

“Fangs aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” Scott says, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. “Uncle Stiles doesn’t have fangs. Neither does your mom. And your mom is the best,” Scott says, dopey smile on his face as he beams at Allison.

“Not unless you count these fangs,” Stiles says, taking Derek’s plastic fangs from his hand and shoving them in his mouth. “I vant to suck your blood!” he mumbles through the fangs.

“Wolves don’t suck blood,” Emily points out.

“But we’re not wolves,” Stiles says. “We can be vampires instead. Mwuh-huh-huh!”

Emily rolls her eyes. “You’re so weird, Uncle Stiles.”

After they finish trick-or-treating, the Pack goes to the sheriff and Melissa’s, where they are waiting with Chris. The house is decorated with cobwebs, gravestones, and fake skeletons, bats, and mummies. “This is so awesome!” Nick says as he runs into the house ahead of everyone.

Melissa, Derek, Isaac, and Allison all baked treats to have at the party. Three long tables are set up in the living room, piled with food, sweets, and candy – all Halloween themed. Halloween music plays in the background as the Pack filters noisily into the house.

“Hey sheriff,” Derek says, giving the sheriff a one-armed hug since he’s holding Evie. 

“Did you get lots of candy?” the sheriff asks Evie, and she just smiles around her mouthful of pumpkin costume.

“I got lots of candy, Pop-pop!” Patrick exclaims, holding his stuffed sack open for the sheriff to look inside. “You can have some if you want!”

“How am I going to choose from all these goodies?” The sheriff reaches into the bag just as Stiles slaps his hand.

“I see you, Dad. You’re not supposed to be eating that stuff.”

“Stiles, it’s Halloween. Let me have a little bit of fun.” The sheriff takes a candy bar and a Tootsie Roll pop. “These okay, Patrick?”

“You can have whatever you want, Pop-pop!”

“Want me to go get some food?” Derek asks, carefully putting Evie on the floor. She waddles over to the toys in the corner of the living room. 

“Sure. Lots of sugar. _Lots of sugar._ ”

“Now it’s my turn to be the food police,” Derek grins. “Planning on staying up all night?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’ll sugar crash and you’ll have to carry me home.” Derek rolls his eyes and goes over to the dessert table. He stacks it with cupcakes that look like they have worms, eyeballs, and even blood coming out of them, monster mash dip, and a few cookies. Stiles shoves an entire cookie in his mouth when Derek returns.

“Daddy! DD! Come dance with me!” Patrick says later when they are talking with Scott and Sarah. He grabs their hands and tugs. “Come on!” They let Patrick lead them onto the space in the living room being used as a dance floor. The sheriff is holding Evie and dancing around with her, Melissa’s dancing with Chris, Emily, and Allison, and Isaac’s dancing with Josh and Millie. 

Patrick starts dancing erratically and with no rhythm. Derek glances at Stiles with a smirk. “Obviously your kid.”

“You have zero rhythm, Derek Stilinski-Hale, so don’t even.”

“Come on! Do the Monster Mash!” Patrick exclaims.

“How do you do the Monster Mash?” Derek asks.

“I don’t know,” Patrick says. “But it’s fun.”

“Well, it was a graveyard smash,” Stiles says, grabbing Derek’s hand in one of his and Patrick’s in another. They dance around the living room to the _Monster Mash_ , then _The Time Warp_ , and _Thriller_. Stiles tries to show Patrick and Derek how to do the _Time Warp_ and _Thriller_ dances, but they just end up flailing around the living room. At one point, the sheriff gives Evie to Stiles, so the four of them spend over an hour dancing to cheesy Halloween music.

Derek can’t remember a Halloween he’s had so much fun since before the fire.

*

It’s a beautiful fall day, a little chilly, but in the sun it’s pleasant, so Derek takes the kids to the park. He puts them in the double stroller with a couple of toys and goes for a run. 

“Whee!!” Patrick yells as Derek pushes them along. He rambles to his stuffed penguin and plays with the two action figures he brought; Evie falls asleep within a few minutes. Derek can’t really open up and run as fast as he wants to with the kids, but it’s better than not being able to run at all.

After he’s run a few miles, Patrick gets restless, so he stops them by a playground. Evie’s still sound asleep, so after he helps Patrick out of the stroller, he snaps a picture of Evie and texts it to Stiles. He also takes a picture of Patrick playing in the leaves and sends it to him.

He rolls the stroller over to a bench and sits down while Patrick plays. Evie doesn’t stir, and Derek watches her for a bit, the way her mouth hangs open like Stiles, the way she pops her lips like she’s looking for a pacifier or bottle. He smiles, then turns his eyes towards Patrick.

Patrick’s running around the playground, a ball of energy as he yells a mixture of words and sounds. After a few minutes, Derek grows bored of watching Patrick run in circles, so he pulls out his phone and starts reading. 

“Hey Daddy, watch me!” Patrick yells. Derek drags his eyes away from his phone to where Patrick is sitting on top of the slide. “Here I go!” He pushes with his arms and slides down the slide.

“That’s great,” Derek says. 

“I’m the best slider.” 

Derek goes back to his phone, and when Patrick yells for him again, he looks up briefly as he slides down. The next time Patrick calls for him, Derek leaps up and screams, “Patrick, no!”

Patrick is standing on top of the plastic fort. He’s crawled over the side railing and is holding on to it, dangerously close to the edge. “I’m gonna fly, Daddy! Watch me!”

“Patrick, don’t jump!”

The yelling wakes up Evie, who starts crying as Derek sprints across the playground. Patrick lets go of the railing and leaps into the air. “ _Wheeeeee!_ ” 

Derek watches him carefully, steps to the side, and catches him with a grunt. Derek’s shaking with adrenaline and fear, but Patrick’s in his arms, laughing. “That was fun, can we do it again?”

“No!” Derek growls. 

“But it was so much fun. I was a bird!”

“Patrick, you can’t do things like that. You are a wolf, not a bird!”

“I like to fly.”

Derek wearily drops onto the bench. He reaches over to run a hand over Evie’s head, which makes her quiet just a bit. “You could get hurt. What if I wasn’t there?”

Patrick shrugs as Derek looks into the baby bag for a bottle. “I heal.”

Derek rubs a hand over his face. He wonders briefly if this was what his mother went through raising him and his siblings. He remembers when he and Laura used to do dangerous things, like climbing up to the top of trees and then leaping from them. Derek remembers he broke his leg more than once, and Laura broke her arm a few times. But that was different – they were much older. And they weren’t _his_ kids.

“Patrick, you should not be jumping off stuff.”

“But Millie, Nick, Ryan, and Josh do it,” Patrick pouts.

“Your cousins are much older that you. Maybe when you’re a little older, you can do it, too.”

Patrick crosses his arms across his chest and pouts. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Derek raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, sir.”

Derek hugs him close and kisses his hair. 

He’s lived through innumerable horrible things in his lifetime, but it’s going to be his kids that end up sending him to an early grave.

* 

**Full moon fuck day! FULL MOON FUCK DAY! Full mooooOOOOONNNN FUUUUUUUUCK DAAAAAAAAY!!**

**You’d almost think you were the wolf.**

**You may have a supernatural libido connected to certain types of full moons, but I’m horny 100% of the time. That’s all natural, baby.  
This is obviously why I make a great werewolf husband :)**

**It is amongst the many reasons, yes.**

**It’s cause I’m awesome. Perfect for you.  
Gah, I don’t want to be at work. I want to be at home having crazy full moon sex.**

**Just a few more hours. :)  
I’m getting a head start.**

**How dare you be so cruel to me?**

**I’ll send you pictures.**

**You better.**

*

Some full moons affect wolves more than others. There are full moons when they feel more aggressive, some where they feel more territorial, protective, and affectionate, and some, like tomorrow’s, where they feel more amorous. Stiles affectionately refers to them as Full Moon Fuck Days. Derek doesn’t call them that, although essentially that’s what they are. 

From the moment Derek wakes up, he feels like he’s crawling out of his skin. He’s just _so horny_. He’s making breakfast with Stiles for the kids before Stiles goes to work, and just the sleepy scent of Stiles moving around the kitchen almost sets him into a frenzy. It takes all his will power not to bend him over the counter and fuck him senseless. 

After Stiles leaves for work, he calms a bit, but he’s still walking around, half-hard and jittery. He can’t leave the kids long enough to jack off, so his eyes keep dragging to the clock, where the minutes are ticking by too slowly. The sheriff is picking up the kids at noon, and Derek has to make it through the next few hours.

By the time the sheriff shows up, Derek is hot and bothered and barely contained. He thinks these particular full moons are as close as werewolves ever get to going into heat. He is just thankful they only happen twice a year.

“Pop-pop!” Patrick yells, jumping into the sheriff’s arms. “I got all my bags packed.”

“Excited about spending the night with me and Grandma Melissa?”

“So excited!”

Evie’s reaching for the sheriff from Derek’s arms, so the sheriff sets Patrick on the floor and takes her. 

“Thanks for keeping the kids tonight,” Derek says.

“We’ve got a fun night planned. We’re going to Chris’ and camping in his backyard.” The sheriff kisses Evie’s head. “We know you kids need to be alone tonight.”

“Yeah,” Derek says, ears burning bright pink. The sheriff shoots him an understanding smile.

“You and Stiles deserve a night together without kids. All of you do. You’re just lucky you have it biologically programmed into your schedule. When Stiles was a kid, we never found time to be alone. He was always there, right under our feet.”

Derek smiles. Despite the fact that they have two children, and no matter how many times the sheriff keeps the Pack’s kids for this very reason, Derek is always embarrassed talking about this with the sheriff. There’s just something inherently uncomfortable about discussing having sex with someone’s son.

“Give me a kiss before you go, kiddo,” Derek says, squatting so he’s level with Patrick. Patrick throws his arms around Derek’s neck and gives him a big smack on the lips. “Love you. Have fun tonight.”

“We get to go camping!” Patrick tells him.

“I know. You’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is the full moon,” Patrick says. “We get to do wolfie runs tomorrow.”

“We do. I’m very excited about that.” Since the Pack spends full moons together, and the wolves refuse to be apart from their cubs on a full moon, they decided a night of sex before the full moon is the best way to calm them. Still doesn’t mean most of them don’t end up fucking after they return from running and put the kids to bed.

“Me, too.” Patrick kisses him again and then goes to grab his Diego rolling suitcase.

“Bye, pumpkin,” Derek tells Evie before nuzzling her nose and kissing her cheek. 

She licks his face and then rubs her hand along his beard. “Da-da-da.”

“Have fun, Derek.” The sheriff claps him on the shoulder before hanging Evie’s overnight bag on his shoulder. Patrick leads the way out of the house, and Derek watches them from the doorway until the sheriff’s car is out of sight.

*

Stiles is pretty sure the clock is stuck. The afternoon has drug on until he’s staring blankly at his reports while thinking about all the things he is going to do to Derek’s cock when he gets home. Which is not really helping him do anything except get a really awkward boner.

An hour before work ends, he gets a picture text from Derek. When he opens it, he almost comes on the spot.

It’s a picture of Derek’s ass filled with an anal plug. Beneath the picture is the text, **Getting ready for tonight.**

Stiles immediately dials Derek. Derek’s laughing when he answers the phone. “That didn’t take as long as I thought.”

“You can’t just send me pictures like that,” Stiles exclaims. 

“You told me to send photos.”

“I was prepared for pictures of you jerking off, not of anal plugs shoved in your ass.” Stiles takes a few deep breaths. “I’m all hot and bothered now.”

“You’ll be home soon.”

“I wonder if I can sneak out early. I can make it up on Friday, cause we both know I won’t be coming in until after noon tomorrow.”

“You’ll be lucky if we even sleep tonight,” Derek says, voice low and gravelly. And well, if that doesn’t go straight to his dick. As if he wasn’t hard enough. 

“That’s it. I’m coming home.” Stiles stands and cradles his phone between his ear and shoulder as he starts gathering the folders. Derek chuckles on the other end. 

“So, maybe I shouldn’t take care of this hard on?”

“Depends on whether you can wait until I get home,” Stiles says, adjusting himself in his khakis as he goes over to messenger bag. He grabs a few vials out of it so he can store and label some of the plants he’s been working with.

“I might be able to contain myself.”

“I bet you’ll enjoy it more,” Stiles replies. “I’ve got to finish putting away these samples, then I’ll be home.”

“I’ll be naked and waiting.”

“Shit, now I have to drive home with that image.”

“See you soon.” 

*

By the time Stiles gets home, his erection is tenting the front of his khakis. He barely remembers to take the keys out of the ignition before running across the yard. He bursts through the front door, hangs his keys on the hook, and unbuttons his shirt as he races up the stairs. The door to their bedroom is open, and when Stiles gets to the doorway, he’s met with a spread eagle Derek lying on the bed, idly stroking his cock. 

“Fuck,” Stiles breathes as he unbuckles his belt. He doesn’t bother doing more than popping the button open and dropping his shirt as he crosses to the bed. He falls down between Derek’s open thighs, eyes sweeping across the bare flesh down to where he can see the base of the black anal plug. Stiles tugs on it lightly, just a tease as he slides his mouth over Derek’s cock. 

Derek comes almost as soon as Stiles puts his mouth on him. Stiles swallows and licks as much come as he can before it spills down his chin and onto the bed. He continues licking errant come from Derek’s cock, and then licks along the seam of his leg and along his balls. Derek makes content sounds above him, his fingers threading into Stiles’ hair and rubbing Stiles’ scalp comfortingly. 

Stiles moves his hips against the bed in an attempt to get some friction, but his own pleasure has been pushed aside in favor of tasting and licking Derek everywhere. He just looks so delicious spread out on his back, legs open so shamelessly as his cock starts to fatten again.

Stiles knows they have sex more than a lot of couples with kids, even if it’s just quick handjobs or blowjobs before they fall asleep. But this is a luxury they don’t have time for anymore. No kids to worry about or hope are asleep, just the two of them and endless time to explore each other’s bodies. That’s why Stiles is content to lay right here, sucking on Derek’s balls just to listen to the small sounds Derek’s making above him. Plus, if he’s honest with himself, he misses the weight of them on his tongue.

After Stiles has thoroughly licked and sucked Derek’s balls to his content, he licks along his perineum while pushing Derek’s thighs up against his chest. In this position, Derek is completely bared for him, and Stiles takes a moment just to admire the image in front of him before lowering his mouth again. He draws his tongue along the stretched rim at the base of the plug, which causes Derek’s hand to tighten in his hair. 

“I’m gonna takes this plug out, then I’m going to eat you out until you come again, and then I’m going to fuck you nice and slow,” Stiles says, punctuating it with a nip to Derek’s left cheek. “Does that sound okay?” He lets Derek’s legs go momentarily and then pushes himself up between them so he can be level with his face. “You still with me?” 

Derek looks sexed out. His face and neck is flush, his eyes bright and pupils blown wide. Stiles thinks he’s beautiful, so open and vulnerable, no walls up. Stiles can never get over the times that Derek just bares himself for Stiles, puts his body completely in Stiles’ hands. The level of trust and love, especially coming from an Alpha werewolf, always punches the breath from him. 

Derek slowly guides Stiles’ face to his and kisses him more gently than Stiles expects. It’s slow and sensual, and Stiles can feel Derek’s tongue all through his body down to the tips of his fingers and toes, and all the way to his cock. Derek’s skin is soft beneath his touch, and he runs his hands along it to feel every inch. They kiss like that for awhile, until Stiles is rutting against Derek’s thigh, the cotton of his briefs uncomfortable against his skin.

Stiles pulls away, Derek lifting his head to chase his mouth. “I’m gonna get undressed. You lay there, keep looking sexy, and I’ll be right back.” 

Derek clamps his legs around Stiles’ waist to prevent him from moving so he can kiss him again. “Love you,” he murmurs against his mouth.

“You’re kinda sappy this full moon,” Stiles teases, but he doesn’t mind, not at all. “I like it.”

“I’ll fuck you into the mattress later and call you my bitch if that’ll make you feel better,” Derek replies with a lazy smile.

“Promise?” Stiles grins as he stands. “With a little spanking?”

“Anything you want, baby.”

After Stiles carefully removes the plug, he pushes Derek’s thighs back up, kisses along the back of his thighs and his ass before dragging his tongue against his hole. It’s loose and relaxed, so Stiles’ tongue slides right past the rim, causing Derek to moan above him, his hands fisting the blankets. 

Stiles eats him out for a tortuously long time. Every time Derek seems close to coming, Stiles pulls back just enough. He switches between slow circles around his rim, fast licks across his hole, and slipping his tongue inside. By the time Stiles is thinking about letting Derek come, Derek’s a boneless mess on the bed, incoherently babbling in between his moans.

“Please, Stiles,” Derek begs. “I don’t think I can take it much longer.” As an answer, Stiles drags his tongue in longer, more deliberate strokes, occasionally sliding past the rim. After a few more minutes like this, Derek falls apart above him, crying out as he comes, hips arching all the way off the bed. 

Derek flops down onto the bed, panting heavily. Stiles crawls, fitting himself perfectly between Derek’s thighs as he kisses him. Stiles slides his hands along Derek’s arm, pushing it above their heads and threading their fingers together as he grips his slickened cock and guides it to Derek’s opening.

Stiles moans low and needy as he pushes into Derek, his body overly sensitive from not coming during the last hour’s activities. Derek’s not hard again, but he’s wrapped one leg around Stiles’ waist, pulling him even closer. “Feel so good,” Stiles whispers against Derek’s shoulder. “Always feel so perfect when I’m inside you.”

Derek rolls his head to the side, baring his neck to Stiles, and Stiles feels a lurch in his chest as he sinks his teeth into the tight muscle hard enough to break the skin. Derek makes a sound somewhere between a grumble and a howl, and Stiles feels Derek’s cock harden against his stomach. Stiles licks at the spot, already healing, and then nuzzles it as he continues to nip at the skin.

“Mine,” Stiles breathes into his neck.

“Yours,” Derek moans, arching up into Stiles as he thrusts deeper. Stiles can’t control himself anymore; he unravels at Derek’s touch, the feeling of Derek surrounding him. He buries his face in Derek’s neck afterwards, unwilling to pull out just yet. It’s not until a few minutes later when he feels the sticky warmth between their bodies that he realizes Derek came, too.

“I can’t move,” Stiles mumbles against Derek’s skin. “Gonna stay right here, if that’s okay with you.”

Derek growls contently in response, his nails scratching lightly along Stiles’ sweaty back.

*

Around 5 a.m., Stiles drops to the bed after Derek has finished fucking him for the second time. Earlier, Stiles had dozed while lying on top of Derek, only to be woken up with Derek slowly fingering him open. He’d fucked Derek again right then, with Derek’s fingers buried inside him, and then they’d taken a shower and Stiles fucked Derek against the shower wall.

They took a break after the shower to fix homemade pizza and made out on the kitchen floor while they baked. When the pizza was done, they curled up naked on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, and ate while watching TV. They didn’t make it through an episode from the DVR before they were kissing and touching on the couch, TV show forgotten.

Stiles groans slightly when Derek rolls him onto his stomach. His entire body is limp with exhaustion, and he’s pretty sure he’s come so hard tonight that his brains came out through his dick. He sighs as he relaxes into the mattress. Derek parts his cheeks and drags his tongue over his asshole, licking the come from him. Stiles is too tired and too spent for his cock to get interested, so he just closes his eyes and enjoys the feeling of Derek’s tongue over his sore hole.

When Derek’s licked him clean, he kisses his way up Stiles’ spine, covering him completely. Derek’s weight on him feels just right, and he blindly reaches out until he finds Derek’s hand so he can lace their fingers. Derek peppers kisses across Stiles’ neck and shoulders as he murmurs endearments into his skin.

When Derek gets too heavy, he moves off and Stiles stretches, his entire body sore. “Oh god,” he rolls over and snuggles against Derek’s side. “I feel like hell.”

“That’s not quite the reaction you should have after the night we had,” Derek says. He kisses Stiles’ forehead.

“I think you broke my dick. And my ass.”

“Your dick and ass aren’t broken,” Derek says with a chuckle. 

“You’re right. I broke your ass tonight.” He smiles against Derek’s arm. “I think I might just take tomorrow off.” He shifts around until he’s propped up against the headboard. Derek rolls towards him, throwing a leg around his waist as he rests his head on Stiles’ chest. 

“Are they going to care?”

“Pfft,” Stiles says. “I don’t care. They can fire me. I don’t need the money.”

“But you love your job.”

“I’ll work from home,” Stiles says. “I’ve got a few things in the greenhouse I need to finish up.”

“Can’t say I’ll be sad if you stay home.” Derek’s fingers dance across Stiles’ torso, and he just lies there, enjoying being close to Derek. He lifts his head when Derek’s fingers start moving slower, and he sees Derek tracing the pink lines of the fresh scars across his side. “I still should go rip apart that wolf.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Stiles says. “I’m fine.”

Derek draws the line of the scars with his fingertips. “Not fine.”

Stiles starts to roll away from Derek as he tries to tug the sheet up to cover himself. “It’s too late and the night has been too good to talk about this.”

“Stop.” Derek stills Stiles’ hand. “Don’t cover it.”

“I don’t want you to get all weird about it.”

Derek sighs. “It just scares me.” He leans down and kisses along the top scar. “You’re everything to me.”

“I know,” Stiles says gently, his fingers sliding into Derek’s sweaty hair. Derek kisses all three scars, then trails his tongue along them. “Hey,” Stiles says, urging Derek up when he’s done, “look at me.” Derek crawls on top of him, boxing Stiles in with his arms and legs. “I love you. You’re my everything, too.”

Derek kisses him, deep and passionate, saying everything through his lips that he can’t with words. Stiles is okay with that; it’s too late for words anyway, and they’ve always communicated this way best.

*

Stiles snuggles closer into Derek on the porch swing. It’s a chilly November day, although the sun is shining brightly overhead. Derek rubs his hand down Stiles’ arm as Stiles tries to steal all of his body heat. Evie’s playing on a play mat on the porch, and Patrick’s in the yard riding his tricycle.

“Satomi called me yesterday,” Stiles says. “She wanted some help locating some rare herbs.”

“Can you help her?”

“I think so. I’ve put in a few calls to my contacts.”

“Daddy?”

Derek looks into the yard. “Yes, Patrick?”

“Can I ride around the house?”

“Sure.”

“Just don’t stay back there unless we’re with you, okay?” Stiles adds. “If you want to play in the backyard, we’ll go with you.”

“Yes, DD.” 

Patrick pedals out of sight, and Stiles watches as Derek listens for him. Patrick comes around the other side of the house a few minutes later, laughing. He makes another loop, pedals down the driveway, then comes back and jumps off his tricycle to chase a squirrel.

“Daddy, DD, look! I’m chasing squirrels!”

“I see that,” Stiles says, looking up from his magazine. He smiles. “You’re gonna be an awesome hunter like your Dad one day.”

“Gonna be a hunter like Daddy!” Patrick sprints across the yard, so fast he’s nothing but a blur of color. “Come here, Mr. Squirrel!”

Stiles glances a Evie, who’s slapping a light up toy that’s singing and making noises, before turning back to his magazine. Patrick’s still zooming around the yard.

A few minutes later, everything goes quiet. “Derek, where’s Patrick?”

Derek tilts his head and listens. “Side of the house.”

Stiles sets his magazine aside as he stands. “Going to go collect our intrepid little hunter,” he jokes as he jogs off the porch. 

When he rounds the house, he doesn’t see anything. There’s no sign of Patrick anywhere. “Patrick? Where are you hiding, you little stinker?”

“Up here, DD!”

Stiles looks up, to where Patrick is standing on the roof. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON THE ROOF?” Instead of answering, Patrick spots the squirrel and takes off, just as Derek sprints around the house. “Roof! He’s on the roof!”

Derek leaps from the ground to the roof in one motion as Stiles runs to the front of the house. “Patrick, stay right there!” he hears Derek yell.

“Squirrel!” Patrick yells as Stiles looks up to see Patrick on the edge of the house. And then to Stiles’ horror, Patrick jumps after the squirrel who has just crossed from the roof ledge to the nearest tree.

“DEREK!” Stiles shouts just as Patrick realizes he’s not jumped far enough. He starts screaming as his little arms and legs flail in the air, windmilling as he tumbles to the ground. Stiles sprints, but he’s too slow. 

Patrick hits the ground with a sickening thump. 

“PATRICK!” Stiles slides to his knees in the dirt beside Patrick at the same time Derek lands on the ground beside him. Patrick’s little body is twisted in ways it shouldn’t be, his legs and arms at odd angles, his back bent in a way that is not normal. His head is turned to the side, scraped and already healing.

“Patrick, Patrick! Oh god, please don’t be dead,” Stiles cries.

“He’s alive,” Derek says quietly. 

“DD, I hurt,” Patrick cries, the words barely audible as he struggles with them.

“Oh, baby.” Stiles runs a hand across the back of his head. “Derek, what do we do? Will he heal?” He looks at Derek helplessly.

“His back is broken.” The words look like they are paining Derek. “And his limbs. We need to get him to Deaton.” Derek scoops Patrick up, and as soon as he touches Patrick, Patrick starts screaming in pain. “I know buddy, just hang in there. We’re gonna fix it.”

“It hurts, Daddy,” Patrick cries as Derek adjusts him in his arms. Derek looks like the only thing keeping him together is his need to fix Patrick, and Stiles just can’t handle this if Derek falls apart. “Grab Evie, come on.”

Stiles grabs Evie from the porch, who’s now screaming at the top of her lungs, gets the keys from the hook just inside the front door, and doesn’t even bother to lock up the house as he runs to the SUV. Derek sits in the back with Patrick cradled in his arms, and Stiles puts Evie in the car seat and buckles her in with shaking hands.

He drives way too fast. He doesn’t care; a patrol car could chase him to Deaton’s for all he cares. He’d just dare Parrish to say anything to him with his baby in the backseat broken and crying in pain.

“It hurts, Daddy, make it stop,” Patrick whines.

“I’m trying, baby,” Derek says. Stiles glances behind him, where both of Derek’s arms are lined with black veins. “It’s trying to heal, but the bones are too messed up.”

“Can Deaton fix it?” Stiles asks, knuckles gripped white around the steering wheel. 

“I hope,” Derek says. “Patrick’s leg is shattered, and I think there are a few more bones that are in really bad shape.”

“Fuck,” Stiles says, his entire body shaking so hard it’s painful. His limbs feel like they’re going to snap, and his breathing is threatening to stop at any moment.

A hand lands on his shoulder and squeezes. “He’s going to be okay,” Derek says. “He’s got to be okay.”

Stiles calls Deaton on the way, so he’s waiting when Stiles slams to a stop in front of the clinic. Derek’s out of the SUV before Stiles even puts it into park. Stiles turns off the SUV and just stares at his hands. Evie’s crying and whimpering behind him, and Stiles tries to collect himself. He’s been through just about everything – he was possessed, for fuck’s sake! But nothing, _nothing_ , compares to the fear he feels in this moment. 

“Get your shit together, Stiles,” he whispers to himself. “You have to be strong for Derek, for Patrick.” He takes a deep breath. “Evie, you can help me be strong, right sweet girl?” He twists around to look into the backseat and sputters.

Evie’s chewing on the sleeve of her shirt and staring at him with gold eyes.

“Ohmigod.” Stiles flails as he struggles to unhook his seatbelt. He stumbles out of the SUV and throws the backdoor open. Evie whimpers, her eyes still Beta gold. “You’re a werewolf,” Stiles says in wonder. “Ohmigod, you’re a werewolf.”

He unbuckles her from the car seat and lifts her into his arms. She presses her face into his neck, mouth automatically going to the collar of his plaid shirt. Stiles wishes he had time to be excited, but Patrick’s still hurt. 

“We’ll just have to celebrate your awesome wolfiness after your brother is whole again,” Stiles says, dropping a kiss on her hair as he rushes inside. “You understand, right?” Evie whimpers in response.

The waiting room is empty, so Stiles drops into one of the plastic chairs. Derek comes out of the examination room a few minutes later, looking wrecked.

“Is Patrick okay?”

Derek nods and sags against the doorframe. “Deaton’s having to set the bones so they can heal.”

“Patrick?” Stiles asks, wincing as he imagines the pain he must be in.

“Crying and – “ Patrick’s scream pierces the conversation, and Stiles’ eyes well up with tears. “He’ll heal and be perfectly fine. But right now…” Derek shakes his head.

“Come here,” Stiles says, holding out his hand. Derek crosses the room, burying his face in Stiles’ neck when he drops into the chair. “He’s gonna be okay.” Derek shakes against him, and Stiles rubs his hair lightly. Evie reaches out and touches Derek, and Stiles notes her eyes are still gold. 

A few minutes later, Stiles says, “Hey, look at Evie.”

Derek lifts his face and when he notices her, his face lights up. “She’s a werewolf!” He leans close, eyes sweeping over her face. “I can’t believe she’s a werewolf.” He just stares for a few more moment. “Her eyes are so beautiful.” He glances at Stiles. “When did her eyes turn?”

Stiles shrugs. “She was like this in the car seat.”

“Patrick,” Derek states.

“Huh?”

“What happened with Patrick. His pain, our fear, the heightened emotions must have forced the change.” He smiles and ruffles her hair. Evie pushes into his hand, and turns her head to bite at his palm.

“So, she never would have changed if Patrick wouldn’t have gotten hurt?” Stiles asks, confused.

“She would have changed eventually. But today was just the catalyst.” Derek kisses her cheeks.

“I’m so fucking thankful she’s a werewolf,” Stiles says quietly.

Derek looks at him in surprise. “I thought you wanted one of them to be human.”

“If Patrick was human, he would have died today.” Stiles gets choked up at the thought. He just shakes his head, tears rolling down his face. 

“It doesn’t make them invincible,” Derek says sadly.

“I know,” Stiles replies. He knows it might be more dangerous to be a werewolf, knows what happened to Derek’s family, what happened to his friends over the years. “But today it saved him.” Stiles wraps an arm around Derek’s shoulders and kisses the top of his head.

The door to the clinic is thrown open later, and the sheriff runs inside. “How is he?” he asks breathlessly. “How’s Patrick?”

“He’s going to be okay,” Derek answers. “He’s just in a lot of pain.”

“Can I see him?” the sheriff asks.

Derek nods. He stands, holding on to Stiles’ hand and tugging him up. “Let’s all go see him. His Pack might help comfort him.” 

They walk into the examination room, and Stiles isn’t prepared for what he sees. Patrick’s on the table, stripped down to only his Pull Ups, his body secured with little straps. “Why is he strapped down?” Stiles demands.

“It’s okay,” Derek says, rubbing his neck soothingly.

“The less he moves, the better,” Deaton explains. “It’ll help the healing process, and minimize the pain Patrick is in.”

“Hey buddy,” Stiles says, shifting Evie in his arms as he runs a hand over Patrick’s hair. 

“DD, make it stop.” Patrick’s face is screwed up in pain, and Stiles’ heart breaks. 

“I can’t make it stop, kiddo,” Stiles replies. “But it’ll be over soon.”

“You always make boo-boos better,” Patrick says.

Stiles has to take a deep breath to keep from crying. He knows he doesn’t deserve the love and trust Patrick’s putting in him. “This is a big boo-boo.”

“Kiss it, make it better, DD.” 

Stiles leans down and presses a light kiss to Patrick’s forehead. “Hope that helped, Patrick,” he whispers against his skin. Evie reaches out and touches him, and Patrick looks at her.

“DD, her eyes!”

Stiles smiles. “Yep.”

“Evie’s a wolfie like me!”

“What?” the sheriff exclaims. “Let me see.” Stiles moves Evie around so the sheriff can see her eyes. “You didn’t think to tell me?” 

“I’ve been a little preoccupied!” Stiles replies. “It just happened like half an hour ago.”

The sheriff turns back to Patrick. “Hey.”

“Pop-pop.” Patrick struggles against the straps, and the sheriff covers one of Patrick’s hands with his own. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I love you, kiddo,” the sheriff says, and Derek grips his shoulder tightly.

They stay by Patrick’s side for the next few hours. Stiles almost has a panic attack twice, and it’s just having Derek and the sheriff around that keeps him together. Evie’s eyes never stop shining gold the entire time Patrick is healing. The sheriff falls asleep in a chair, and Derek paces around the room nervously.

“I think the worst is over,” Deaton says what feels like a hundred hours later. He loosens the straps, and Stiles and Derek run to Patrick’s side.

“How do you feel, munchkin?” Stiles asks. 

“You okay?” Derek asks.

“I’m sore,” Patrick says.

“Are you still in pain?” Derek asks.

“Not bad now, Daddy.”

“The bones are mostly healed,” Deaton says. “I’m going to give you some medicine for him. Give it to him for the next day or so, make sure he rests and doesn’t over do it. He should be good as new tomorrow.”

Derek carefully scoops Patrick up and cradles him to his chest. “Thanks, Deaton.” Patrick lays his head on Derek’s shoulder, his nose pressed against his neck.

Deaton smiles. “I never thought I’d go from patching you up for your mother to patching up your children.”

“Let’s hope you never have to do this again,” Derek says. 

Deaton places a hand on Patrick’s back. “Raising children is a stressful endeavor, and raising wolf cubs is its special brand of stress.”

“If by special, you mean I’m going to have a heart attack by the time I’m thirty,” Stiles mutters. The sheriff squeezes his arm. 

They walk out together, Derek carrying Patrick and Stiles carrying Evie. “I’m sorry,” Patrick whispers. “I’m sorry I got hurt and scared you and DD.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Derek says, rubbing circles on Patrick’s back. “Doesn’t matter. We’re just glad you’re safe.”

“We love you, Patrick,” Stiles says, kissing Patrick’s arm as the sheriff kisses his head. 

Derek sits in the back of the SUV with Patrick as they drive home. Stiles feels the adrenaline crashing down, and it takes everything he has to make it home.

When they’re home, Derek and Stiles stretch side by side on the couch, the kids lying on top of them. They don’t say anything; they just cling to the kids and each other.

*

Derek pushes the coffee table in the living room to the edge of the room, leaving the floor open and spacious. He adjusts the ridiculous tie around his neck, the one Patrick put on him because, as Patrick said, “It matches your t-shirt and eyes and makes you look pretty.” He’d picked Stiles out a bowtie with pink polka dots. “I didn’t even know you owned that,” Derek had said, his nose wrinkled.

“You don’t know everything about me,” Stiles had joked, though they both knew that was a lie even without the werewolf detection.

Stiles brings Evie into the living room as Derek finishes rearranging the furniture. Evie’s got on a fluffy purple tutu and a crown on her head. He sits her down near the television, which is turned to a satellite instrumental station.

“Is this normal?” Derek asks. 

Stiles pulls a lighter from his pocket and lights four candles and lines them on the coffee table. “Does it matter?”

“I don’t know. I’m just always afraid we’re going to irreparably damage our kids by just letting them do whatever.”

Stiles sighs. “Derek, they’re werewolves. I think their threshold for normal is different than whatever parenting website you’ve been on this week.” He crosses the living room and kisses Derek’s lips gently. “Stop spending so much time on Pintrest and message boards.”

“You know this parenting thing is not easy!”

“We don’t need a website’s approval for how we’re raising our kids,” Stiles says with a smile. “I think they’re doing just fine. See?” They turn to see Evie, eyes gold like they’ve been randomly doing since the day Patrick got hurt, the hem of her tutu in her mouth. “That’s a happy little girl.”

At that moment, Patrick sticks his head into the room. He’s got a flashing tiara on his head and a sheet tied around his neck like a cape. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Derek tells him, and Patrick disappears again.

“And that’s a happy little boy.” Stiles adjusts Derek’s tie and runs his hands across his shoulders. “I married a blow up Easter bunny when I was his age,” he tells Derek. “And I turned out fine.” Derek doesn’t look reassured.

A moment later, Patrick comes into the room with his arm hooked through his giant Batman action figure. The figure is so tall that it comes to Patrick’s shoulder. Stiles straightens up and looks official as Patrick and Batman walk down the aisle.

“We’re getting married, DD,” Patrick says with a wide grin when he gets to Stiles. 

Stiles nods. “You make a very handsome groom.”

“Thank you.” Patrick takes the tiara off his head and fits it on Batman’s head, then he shakes Batman’s hand and hugs him. “Ta-da! It’s time for our honeymoon!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Stiles says, grabbing the back of Patrick’s cape before he scampers off. “That’s it?”

Patrick shrugs. “Yeah, what else do you do at a wedding?”

“I had a speech prepared.”

“You talk too much, DD.”

Stiles frowns. “We lit candles, and look, Evie even dressed up.” Evie has crawled over to the Batman doll and is using it to help her stand. When she gets to her feet, she tries to take the crown from his head.

“You made me wear a tie,” Derek says.

“Yep. But now we’re all done! We’re going on our honeymoon.”

“Where are you going?” Derek asks.

“The moon.”

“What are you going to do on your honeymoon?” Stiles asks, trying not to laugh as Patrick drags his Batman out of the living room.

“What people do on their honeymoon, DD,” Patrick replies like Stiles is stupid.

“And what’s that?”

“Eat cookies, dig in the dirt, and sleep.” Patrick starts up the stairs, Evie waddling behind her brother. He drags Batman up the steps, his feet knocking against each step. The flashing tiara falls off after the first few steps.

“That’s not what your dad and I did on our honeymoon,” Stiles calls up the stairs.

“That’s because you and Daddy are boring.” 

Stiles laughs and turns to Derek. “He called us boring!”

“Our honeymoon was not boring,” Derek smiles against Stiles’ neck. 

“Definitely not,” Stiles responds, remembering two weeks in a small, private villa on the Greek coast. Too bad all that Stiles saw of Greece was that house and the Mediterranean shore. Swimming naked in the ocean had been fun, though. So was fucking in the ocean, and on the beach, and in the hot tub – 

“You’re thinking about our honeymoon, aren’t you?” Derek kisses his cheek. 

“Great trip,” Stiles says. “We should do it again.” Evie wraps her arms around Stiles’ leg and starts chewing on his pants leg. “In about eighteen years.”

Derek laughs and starts upstairs to check on Patrick.

*

“Fuck yes,” Stiles groans. He’s on his back, Derek riding his cock like his life depends on it. Derek’s so sexy like this, head thrown back in passion, a litany of delicious sounds coming from his mouth. “Just like that, Derek, oh god,” Stiles rambles.

Derek leans down to kiss him, changing the angle and making Stiles moan. He braces himself on Stiles’ chest and makes small circles with his hips, and Stiles is pretty sure he’s going to explode.

“Daddy!” A persistent knocking starts on the door, and they both freeze and stare at the closed door. “DD!”

“I thought you said he was asleep,” Stiles hisses. 

“He was!” Derek responds. 

“Daddy, DD! What are you doing?” A tiny hand reaches through the crack under the door. “I want to play, too!”

“Patrick,” Stiles starts, and Derek rolls his hips, causing Stiles to moan. Stiles glares at Derek, who’s smirking down at him, the bastard. “Go back to sleep.”

“I have to potty.”

Stiles sighs and looks up at Derek. “We were having such a lovely time,” he whispers. Derek rolls off of Stiles, and Stiles whines at the loss of him around his cock. “I’ll go deal with potty time.”

Stiles pulls on Derek’s sweat pants that had been discarded on the floor earlier, and readjusts himself, though sadly he’s lost some of his erection. Stiles opens the door to find Patrick on the floor, on his hands and knees, face pressed against the crack in the door.

“What are you and Daddy doing?” Patrick asks.

“Playing a game,” Stiles replies, closing the door behind him as he helps Patrick to his feet.

“Can I play?”

“Nope. You get to go to the potty, then you get to go back to sleep.”

“But you and Daddy aren’t asleep.”

Stiles sighs. “We were about to go to sleep.” He helps Patrick go to the potty, supervises as he washes his hands, and then takes him back into his bedroom.

“I’m not sleepy, DD!” Patrick says when Stiles tries to put him in his bed. 

“Patrick, it’s late. Please go to sleep.”

“Read me a story?”

Stiles sighs. He figures his night is shot anyway. He needs to go to sleep, and his hard on is completely gone at this point. There’s probably no happy ending tonight for his dick.

“Fine, scoot over.” Stiles fits himself on the bed beside Patrick and picks up the nearest book. He reads to Patrick for almost half an hour before he finally goes to sleep.

As carefully as possible, he gets off the bed, lays the stuffed penguin beside him and tugs up his covers, and then exits the room. Before returning to his bedroom, he goes to check on Evie. She’s sound asleep in her crib. He rubs her curls lightly, and she snuffles in her sleep and moves towards him. She’s still only flashed gold eyes a few times, still no claws, fangs, or hair growth, but now that they know she’s a werewolf, he and Derek keep noticing small actions that are obviously her wolf. Stiles rubs her arm lightly before he leaves. 

Derek’s fallen asleep by the time Stiles reenters their bedroom. He frowns as he takes off the sweatpants and crawls into bed. “Patrick okay?” Derek mumbles sleepily as Stiles fits himself snugly behind Derek. Although he’s pressed against Derek’s naked body, he’s just too tired to finish what they were doing earlier.

“Yep. Asleep now.”

“Wanna finish?” Derek mumbles, and Stiles chuckles because he knows Derek’s only half awake.

“No.”

“Sorry.” Derek grabs Stiles’ hand resting on his belly and squeezes it. 

“Night, Derek.” Stiles kisses the back of his neck. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” After a moment, Derek says, “We can pick up where we left off tomorrow.”

“Hopefully,” Stiles responds. 

When Evie starts screaming two hours later, Stiles stirs awake as Derek crawls out of bed and grabs the sweat pants from the floor.

Stiles is pretty sure he won’t be getting lucky tomorrow night either, not if his kids have anything to do with it, but he feels pretty lucky anyway.

-fin

**Author's Note:**

> i married a plastic pink bunny when i was 3. i just had to have patrick marry something, too lol.
> 
> [tumblr](http://thepsychicclam.tumblr.com), if you'd like to come flail about teen wolf and sterek :D


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